Unthinkable
by Horsebot3000
Summary: After the fallout from the battle with Slade, life returns to normal in Starling City. But try as they might, neither Oliver or Felicity can forget what happened that night at the Queen Mansion.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Contains spoilers for Episode 2x23. This will be a multi-chapter fic, at this stage I'm aiming for about 10 chapters. **

**Prologue**

Diggle reaches down from the interior of the seaplane to offer Felicity a hand. She smiles as she takes it, scrambling up. He notices the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, but he says nothing and helps her buckle in to the passenger seat behind the pilot's seat.

"All good?" Oliver asks over one shoulder, running through the pre take off checklist. Digg wrenches the plane door shut, securing it tightly and clambers over to sit beside Oliver.

"All good. Let's get home." He slips a headset on and hands another over the back to Felicity. She accepts it, but doesn't put it on.

Oliver methodically runs through every step on the checklist before easing back on the throttle and taking the plane out onto the water. Within seconds they've picked up enough speed and they're airborne.

Despite the noise of the cockpit, Digg can hear Felicity retching into one of the many sick bags she insisted bringing along. He looks over to see her face has turned ashen and he mimes for her to try and sleep. She nods miserably, holding her stomach and trying to settle back against the lumpy seat.

Oliver doesn't speak as he manoeuvres the plane out of Lian Yu's small bay and out over the China Sea. The two men remain silent, one focusing on the horizon ahead and the other wondering just what happened between his two friends on the beach. Based on the set of Oliver's jaw and the sad acceptance in Felicity's eyes, he's guessing more of the same dance that he's been watching the past two years.

Digg checks on Felicity every few minutes, and twenty minutes into their trip back to Hong Kong, he can tell she's fallen asleep. Her unused headset dangles from one hand and even if she wakes up in the next moment, she won't be able to pick up what he says to Oliver over the noise of the engines.

"You don't have to hide it for my benefit, you know." He says.

"Hide what, John?" Oliver says calmly, the muscle twitching in his jaw suggesting he is anything but calm.

"Your feelings for Felicity. I won't feel like the third wheel."

Digg waits a beat, then two. Then three. He silently counts to seven before Oliver finally replies.

"That's not why."

"So you admit it? You do have feelings?"

"Jesus, Digg." Oliver sighs, taking one hand of the throttle long enough to run it over his chin, wincing ever so slightly as he presses too hard on the vicious bruise purpling his jaw.

"It's not that simple. This whole thing with Slade just proved that whomever I'm with is a target. He would have killed her, you know. Right in front of me." His gaze flicks away from the horizon long enough to catch Diggle's eye. The calm exterior Oliver projects so well has been stripped back to reveal a mixture of misery and agony.

"But he didn't. You bested him. Hell, _she_ bested him. She's stronger than you give her credit for. She's not some damsel that needs you to save her." _Like Laurel._ The unspoken comparison sits heavily between them.

"I know that, Digg. She's one of the bravest people I know. But I can't risk it, I can't risk her. She's in danger as it is just being Oliver Queen's PA, let alone working with the Arrow."

Diggle groans under his breath. Oliver Queen, martyr in love. He thinks back to the women he's seen Oliver with since the Island. Each of one of them with baggage, adding their burdens to the load already weighing on Oliver's shoulders. Half of them deranged killers, or sisters.

"You're making a mistake, you know. This life we lead, yeah it's dangerous. Anything could happen and I get why you want to protect her." Digg glances over to Felicity on the back seat, her glasses slipping down her nose and her lips parted slightly.

"But life's too short. You need to take these chances for happiness when they happen."

Oliver shakes his head. "You're not listening. She's too important, I can't risk her."

Digg felt his fists tensing up. Now he realised why he always let Felicity do the big reasoning speeches.

"She's already at risk, Oliver. And we can protect her, not that she needs much help protecting herself. Just let yourself be happy, man. For once, put yourself and her first." He claps an unclenched hand on Oliver's shoulder and then leans forward to switch off his headset. He'll let Oliver stew on his words back to Hong Kong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

"Felicity. Wake up, we're home." She tosses her head, ignoring the voice and worming her way deeper into the soft leather seat. There's a pause before a firmhand gently shakes her shoulder.

"Mom, go away." She moans, rolling over, blinking against the light. A large, decidedly not Mom-shaped blur looms over her and she recognises the soft woody notes of Oliver's cologne in her sleep addled haze. "You're not my mom."

"I'm not sure how to take that." He replies, a smile in his voice.

She blinks again but he refuses to come into focus. Anticipating her question, he fishes something out of his pocket and hands her her glasses. The world sharpens and she notices the dark shadows under Oliver's eyes and the small crease between his brows that appears whenever he's had no sleep. Her hand twitches to reach up and smooth the crease away with her fingertips, but she controls the urge. She has many jobs in her roles with Oliver and the Arrow, being the comforting girlfriend isn't one of them.

The unhappy thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, but she pastes on a smile as she unbuckles herself and unfolds her legs. The plush carpet on the private jet makes her bare toes curl with pleasure and she lets out a little hum in spite of herself as she looks around for her ballet flats. She locates them and wiggles her feet in to them. Oliver is still hovering by her seat, her small overnight back clutched in his hand, the other being extended towards her.

She doesn't need help getting out of her seat, but she can't help herself from slipping her hand into his as she stands up. His grip is warm and familiar and when he holds on a moment or two longer than necessary, her traitorous heart flips in her chest.

"You guys ready?" It's Diggle, his words light but a pointed expression on his face as he looks straight at Oliver. Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity can see Oliver shoving both hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Yep. I am so ready to get home and get out of these clothes." Felicity closes her eyes in embarrassment. "I mean, obviously after you two have left. And so I can put someone else on straight away. You know what? I probably don't need to change. Ever."

Digg's lips quirk and he leans across to snag her bag from Oliver before leading the way down to the front of the jet. Felicity hugs her arms against her body before shuffling after him, her gaze focused squarely on Digg's retreating back and not back towards the man standing near her.

Digg drives down-town towards Felicity's apartment building. She has no idea whether or not her building was one of the many targeted in the attack. She eyes her bag and mentally catalogues the clothes within it and the other spare ones she keeps back at the lair. Miraculously, her stash had gone unnoticed by the Mirakuru goons in their smashing spree, but it's a small fraction of her wardrobe and she finds herself crossing her fingers that, even if her place has been turned over, the new purple satin pumps with the four inch spike heel that she bought just two weeks earlier survived.

She lets out a little sign as the building comes in view and looks unscathed, but she knows the story inside could be different. Digg angles the car down to the parking garage and finds a spot near Felicity's small red Mini. She can't help but give the car an affectionate pat as they walk past towards the lifts, Diggle in front, his hand resting lightly on the gun at his hip, Oliver behind her.

It's clear and her apartment is still secure. Felicity can almost feel herself tear up as she takes in her familiar possessions, the kitschy knick-knacks blending in with cosy furniture and bright accents.

Oliver allows himself a smile as he takes in the room that shouts that Felicity lives here. Half a wall is taken up with a desk and computer with a set-up that comes close to rivalling her computer at the lair. A treadmill is angled so she can look out the window while she runs. An ancient couch with faded fabric has been brightened up with colourful cushions and the walls are hung with a mixture of prints of Old Masters and quirky sketches.

Digg does a sweep to be certain, but Felicity knows the apartment hasn't been touched. He hovers by the door, ready to leave.

"Wait, do you even have anywhere to go to?" Felicity asks, pushing her glasses up.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Digg replies. "Lyla says my apartment building got a bit roughed up, but the security system on my apartment held out. We'll be fine there."

She turns to Oliver. "Oliver, you can't go back to the mansion. There's no furniture, you can't stay there."

"Felicity, I slept in the shell of a shot down plane for years. I think I can manage to sleep on the floor of an empty mansion." He replies lightly.

Felicity crosses her arms and frowns. "You know there's more to it than that. There are probably looters still around and one of the first places they'll go is the mansion. Especially once it's apparent the guards and security have gone. You'll have to stay here. I'll make up the spare room."

She turns away determinedly, but he reaches out to snag her arm and she spins around to face him.

"That isn't necessary. I can take anyone that tries to get in." She glances down at his hand still on her arm, his thumb mindlessly tracing back and forth.

"Oliver. For god's sake. I know you can handle a beating, but it's been month after month of beating since Slade and Blood started all this. The last thing you need is to constantly be on alert. You need to rest and heal. Both of which you can do here."

He opens his mouth to argue and she decides to play dirty and use her trump card: playing on his guilt. "Besides, I'll be nervous staying her by myself." Her fingers cross behind her back, but she can see the second Oliver gives in. She feels awful for using his protective feelings against him, but it's for his own good. Then she remembers what he didn't say on the beach and she feels less guilty.

He lets out a sigh and rubs his hand down his face. "Fine. But this is temporary. Very temporary." Oliver can't even look over at Diggle, afraid of what he might see in his friend's face.

Felicity shoves him towards the couch and he sits down heavily, his large frame and brooding expression decidedly out of place beside the riot of colour that is the rug her Grammy crocheted for her. She walks Digg to the door, allowing him to enfold her in a hug and she squeezes back.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmurs into her hair. Bless him, she thinks, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of Digg's massive arms surrounding her.

"I'm sure. It'll be ok." She pulls back and offers him a small smile and he leaves, reminding her to set the alarms behind him.

She leaves Oliver where he is and putters around the small apartment, checking the fish still have some of the long-term food block she put in the tank before this last assault began, then filling up the kettle and flicking it on to boil.

He stays put while she pulls a spare set of sheets and some blankets from her linen cupboard and she takes delight in selecting a set decorated with tiny rainbows and hearts. The spare room is small, dominated by the sofa bed once she unfolds it and efficiently makes it up. She takes her time to smooth out every crease and plump each pillow, delaying the moment when she has to go out and face Oliver again.

Felicity huffs at her own ridiculousness. How is this any different from any of the other times she's made her feelings painfully aware to him? Russia springs to mind immediately. But she knows that his part in it makes it different. She closes her eyes and conjures up that moment back in the mansion, her hand resting on his elbow, his face as he tells her that he loves her for the benefit of Slade's cameras. There was a rawness, a truth to his words that she hadn't been anticipating when they made their plans that made her heart race with hope.

Her eyes fly open as she hears movement from the lounge and she hurries to the door expecting to see the front door shutting behind Oliver.

"I'm over here." He says quietly. He's in the small kitchen, opening cupboards in search of something. "Cups?" he asks. She gestures to his right and he locates two mugs and begins making drinks.

Before she joins him, she makes a stop at the bureau and pulls out some clothes her brother had left behind for his visits. She dumps a pair of light sweatpants and a tshirt on the bench near where he's making tea and his eyebrow raises slightly.

"Old boyfriend?" he asks lightly.

"Brother." She corrects him. "He's a little taller than you, but doesn't have your physique. Not," she hastily adds, "that I've been studying you enough to know for sure. But you, know, the salmon ladder is right near my desk so I notice things. Or it was right near my desk, I suppose. Anyway. The point is the clothes should fit."

He doesn't respond, but hands her the tea and then follows her back to the couch. She curls up in one corner, glancing surreptitiously at Oliver as she blows gently on the tea to cool it down.

"I can't really believe we won, you know." Felicity looks up properly at Oliver's words. He's starting into his cup, tracing the rim with one finger.

"I can." She replies firmly. "I believed in us. I believed in _you_." It's true. Despite the overwhelming odds against them, she believed so fiercely in Oliver Queen and his ability to save the city that she'd suggested the seemingly ridiculous plan to pretend to be the woman he loved.

Given Oliver's increasingly unbelievable stories before he revealed himself to her as the vigilante, Felicity hadn't seen the danger in putting on the show for Slade. Well, apart from the actual danger of offering herself as bait to a homicidal maniac. But then Oliver had looked at her like that, said those words.

She shakes the memory aside and one look at his face told her he was thinking of it as well. After the scene on the beach when she'd offered him the chance to tell her that yes, he really did mean it, Felicity isn't sure she could deal with him mentioning it again.

"You know what?" she says, setting her cup on the small coffee table beside the couch. "I'm exhausted and you certainly look like you are too."

She gets up, awkwardly tugging down her hoodie as she does. "I've made up the bed for you. Bathroom's through there," she points to the short hallway that lead to both the bathroom and her bedroom.

He stands up as well and takes a step forward. "Thanks, Felicity. I'll keep the door ajar so I can hear you if you need me for anything."

Before she can open her mouth, no doubt to blabber some wildly inappropriate examples of why she might need to call him into her room in the middle of the night, he moves closer and presses a swift kiss to her forehead near the gash she'd sustained in the attack and then walks off to the spare room.

Felicity feels a lump forming in her throat and she swallows thickly. Her stomach clenches and her hand stupidly reaches up to press against where he'd kissed her.

"Stupid." She whispers to herself. Holding her chin up, Felicity escapes to the privacy of her room and waits until she was curled up in her bed amongst the floral sheets and the teddy bear she's had since she was a kid before allowing the long held in tears to flow silently down her cheeks.

She keeps her door ajar, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews! While I'm hoping to update this regularly, the next update is more likely to be in at least a week. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

She wakes early the next day to a soft and rhythmic _thump-thump-thump_ coming from the lounge. Disorientated from sleep, she immediately assumes someone's in her apartment and she fumbles for the bedside table and the can of pepper spray she knows is inside.

Flipping back the covers, Felicity slips on her glasses and then quietly slides out of bed, the squeak of shock in the back of her throat from the sensation of cold floorboards on her warm feet is successfully muffled by the hand not holding the spray.

The thumping is joined by a strange whine the closer she gets. Felicity quietly pulls off the lid of the pepper spray and edges closer, ready to poke her head around the corner and look into the living room.

"Felicity."

She shrieks and drops the pepper spray, dancing around to avoid the small burst of spray that emits when the canister hits the floor.

"Oliver, I forgot you were here, you nearly gave me a heart attack." She gasps, stepping in to the lounge. The risk of heart attack grows stronger as she sees that the noise is Oliver running on her treadmill, which is whining with the effort of keeping up with the high speed Oliver has it on. He's shirtless, a light sheen of sweat covering his torso and delineating his muscles and making the mottled bruises covering half his back stand out even further. She crosses her arms over her chest, conscious of the fact she's not wearing a bra under her tshirt, even though Oliver largely has his back to her and therefore can't see.

"Sorry, I figured you'd freak if I went out running and I wasn't here when you woke up, but apparently you freak if I am here." He sounds like he's casually chatting over a drink and not running at a fast clip.

"That's okay. I'm just not used to waking up to people in my apartment. I mean, clearly I've had people stay here, I'm not some weird hermit, but you know, they normally stay where you put them." She's babbling and can't stop. Oliver glances briefly over his shoulder and she spots that slight smirk he wears when she's being especially ridiculous.

"Shutting up now." She shuffles to the kitchen and starts hunting down breakfast food. Because of the time she spends either at Queen Consolidated or the Lair, her kitchen is normally pretty devoid of food. Well, food that Oliver Queen would find acceptable, that is. She's pretty sure the maid at the mansion never served cookies and crème pop tarts for breakfast.

"I'm just going to duck downstairs, there's a deli across the road. We have no food." She catches herself on the "we" part of that sentence. _Don't get too cosy with this arrangement_, she reminds herself.

Oliver clearly hasn't heard her properly, because he doesn't raise a complaint when she pulls her trench over her pajamas and slips out the front door. On the lift ride down she tidies her hair and applies a bit of lip gloss from the tube she found in her coat pocket.

As she hurries across the street, Felicity is again struck by how lucky it was that her neighbourhood has been spared. While parts of Starling look like the war zone they were just days before, the streets here look pretty much like they always do, except for the visible presence of bigger locks on doors and bars on windows.

She quickly buys a selection of the sort of fresh food she's seen on the Queens' breakfast table and wonders absently if Oliver will actually know how to cook any of it. Toast, she can deal with, but much more than that and she's out of her league.

Oliver's still running when she gets back, but jumps skilfully off the treadmill and the sound of her dumping the grocery bags on the kitchen bench.

"Felicity! You should have said you needed to go out, I would have come with you." He says sternly, walking towards her while patting down his chest with a towel. She rolls her eyes at the tone in his voice and starts unpacking.

"And make you put a shirt on? God, I didn't mean it like that, like I prefer you shirtless. I mean, because you're all sweaty and stuff and putting a shirt on over that might feel gross. That still doesn't sound right."

"Anyway," she decides a change of topic is more than overdue. "What did you want to do today? Should we try and talk to Walter about getting back control of QC?"

He shakes his head. "I spoke to him on the jet back from Hong Kong. He's looking into it and there isn't really that much we can do to help at this stage. I thought we could go to the Foundry and see if there's anything salvageable, hopefully a lot. I'm not exactly flush with the funds to replace anything now."

"Funny you should say that," Felicity puts down a punnet of strawberries and glances up at him. He's standing at the end of the bench, hands flat on it, leaning forward slightly. The towel is draped around his neck, but a swathe of toned flesh is still on display. She resolutely makes eye contact.

"I'm not sure how you'll feel about this, but each time we've taken someone down, I've been, how should I put this, making a slush fund out of some of their ill-gotten gains. _After_ compensating their victims and making some sizable charitable donations, obviously. It's not much, but it should at least cover the cost of a new salmon ladder if worst comes to worst." Felicity likes to think she knows Oliver pretty well, but she isn't sure how he'll take the news. To her surprise, a grin stretches on his face.

"So the criminals of Starling are bankrolling the Arrow," Oliver muses. "I have to say, I kind of like it. But once we get back QC whatever's left goes to charity, right?"

Felicity nods her assent. "Of course. I've been regularly donating the interest payments to a range of charities, but ever since Isobel Rochev came on the scene I've wanted to make sure there were some funds available completely separate from QC or your trust. And considering you're jobless at the moment, you shouldn't be dipping into your trust for arrows and whatnot."

It's his turn to nod. "You didn't underestimate her like I did, Felicity."

It's on the tip of her tongue to make some crack about him not underestimating Isobel in Russia, but she keeps her mouth shut for once.

"Tell you what, why don't you call Digg and get him up to speed with our plans while I take a shower?" she suggests. He clearly needs one first, what with the sweat and all, but Felicity is painfully aware of the size of her hot water tank and while she's prepared to sacrifice her time, effort and even her heart to Oliver Queen, she won't sacrifice a hot shower.

Nearly two hours later, they're picking through the mess in the Foundry. Oliver is sorting through rubble looking for any weapons that may have survived, while Digg helps Felicity salvage some of the computer equipment.

They work in silence, apart from the occasional call if anyone finds something worth keeping or Felicity's shout of pleasure at finding the salmon ladder unscathed, so the sound of the door at the head of the stairs opening makes them all look up.

In a flash Digg has drawn his gun from its holster and Oliver's holding a handful of tranquiliser darts he'd found earlier. Felicity finds herself holding a pair of pliers and decides it's probably more useful if she just stands behind John.

Footsteps grow louder and eventually reveal Laurel. She holds up her hands in mock surrender and Oliver and Digg lower their weapons.

"Laurel," Felicity says weakly. She hasn't seen her since the confrontation with Slade. After Sara had dragged them to safety, leaving Oliver to battle Slade, Laurel had scrutinised Felicity with a look that clearly said I_ don't know what Ollie sees in you, but it's clearly just a phase._ Needless to say, Felicity isn't that keen to see Laurel for more of the same.

Laurel looks up at the sounds of Felicity's voice, but her eyes slide right over Felicity and Diggle like they're not there and on to Oliver.

"Ollie," she says. She sounds tired and it's obvious to Felicity that Laurel has somehow become even thinner in the days since Quentin was taken to hospital.

"Laurel, how's your father?" he asks, moving over to where she's perched a step or two from the floor. Her arms reach out, waiting for him to move into them, but he merely clasps one hand briefly and then pulls back. She frowns, her eyes flicking briefly to Felicity, before returning to Oliver.

"He's still in a coma, but the doctors are hopeful. Ollie, I was hoping we could talk." Again, she looks at Felicity and Felicity finds herself shrinking ever so slightly further behind Diggle.

"Now's not really a great time, Laurel. We don't know whether the memory loss caused by the mirakuru cure is a temporary or not, so we need to relocate. I don't particularly like the thought of a busload of Starling's worst criminals remembering where the Arrow keeps his spare hood." Oliver runs a hand through his hair. He's painfully aware of Digg and Felicity across the room. They've resumed work on the computers, pretending to ignore he and Laurel, but the last thing he wants to do is explain the plan to fool Slade to Laurel. Hell, he doesn't even want to talk to Felicity about it. The memory of those few minutes in the mansion have haunted his every moment since. It was supposed to be a simple staged goodbye for Slade's benefit, but looking down at Felicity's earnest face had made him go off book. The thought brings a tight feeling to his throat and he resolutely keeps his focus on Laurel instead of turning around to look at Felicity like he desperately wants to.

"Can I help? I'm going crazy sitting beside Dad waiting for him to wake up." Laurel takes the last steps down to stand in front of Oliver.

"Laurel, I…" he knows she's not just talking about packing up equipment and he's at a loss for words. How can he explain to her that he can't have her involved in this part of his life?

"What, I suppose it's too dangerous?" suddenly Laurel's voice is cutting. "Should I just go back to my apartment, Ollie? If _she _can help you, I don't understand why I can't."

Felicity stiffens, a bubble of anger building up. She makes the slightest move to stand up and tell Laurel to go to hell when Digg's large hand claps on her shoulder and squeezes slightly. _Easy_, she can almost hear him say.

Oliver pointedly ignores the jibe at Felicity. He doesn't need to defend her place, she does it every day in helping keep him alive out there.

"It's not because it's too dangerous, it's because there's too much between us, Laurel. Too much history and hurt and baggage. My focus is off when you're there and that could mean a messy end for more than just me. If you want to help this city, do it by doing what you do best: go and prosecute the lowlifes that have been literally getting away with murder for years. But being a part of _this_, it just can't happen."

Oliver sees a torrent of emotions flashing through Laurel's eyes as he speaks and he hates that he's hurting her, but it's the way it's got to be. Too many people already know about the Arrow and the fact is Laurel is a liability in the field. One day she might accept that she can't help, despite all her good intentions, but until then he has to be cruel.

She doesn't respond and spins on her heels to run up the stairs. Oliver lets out a breath he doesn't realise he's been holding. He glances over to spot Digg and Felicity very obviously trying to ignore what's just happened in front of them.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I should have handled that differently. I hadn't really even thought about what to tell Laurel after everything that's happened. There's a lot she should know."

Felicity feels herself getting annoyed again. She's not a nasty person, but if it were up to her she'd just tell Laurel to get over it, especially given the lack of satisfactory discussion on the topic of the trap for Slade she herself has had from Oliver. Felicity isn't a nasty person, but the dismissive looks from Laurel every time they've been in the same room have Felicity feeling less than charitable. She's used to dealing with that crap from people from QC, or the media, who assume from her promotion to Oliver's PA that she's just there as his piece of ass, but she actually thought Laurel might be different.

She's close to opening her mouth and telling Oliver exactly what she thinks Laurel should know, when Digg pipes up first.

"Don't worry about it, man. We've got bigger issues. Like where we're going to set up now that the Foundry's been compromised. What about…"

"No. Not there." Oliver quickly responds. The secondary location they'd tracked him to after his mother's death has too many dark memories. Although the Foundry is essentially a place of war, it's also been built of the feelings of trust, friendship and loyalty that he shares with the two people before him. If he wants to stay on this path of honouring Tommy and being the hero Starling needs, he can't base himself somewhere filled with the aftermath of some of the darkest moments since his return from Lian Yu.

"I might have an idea." Felicity replies, pushing her annoyance aside. "It's not so conveniently located, but it could be okay while we hunt for somewhere better. But we have a long way to go here before we can even consider that and I have some stuff to check before I know it will be okay. We should just get back to work and think about it later on. Digg, can you hold up that drive there so I can get to the wiring?"

Within moments the tension that had been in the air since Laurel's arrive dissipates and they fall back into an easy silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favourites. Chapter 3 was finished earlier than I anticipated, so rather than make you wait I thought I'd put it up. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

"Why do I have to sit in the back?" Felicity glances in the rear view mirror to where Oliver is sitting on the backseat of her small red Mini, his arms folded over his chest and an expression on his face best described as sulky. Oliver Queen, master of his emotions, undone by sitting in the backseat of a tiny red car.

"John's bigger than you," Felicity points out, her glance flicking back and forth between the road ahead and Oliver's reflection. "I don't think he'd even fit in the back."

Digg shoots her a quick grin, clearly enjoying Oliver's discomfort as much as she is. Her rollercoaster of emotions is back on the up today, following the encounter with Laurel at the lair. A tub of bubblegum ice cream, making Oliver watch Ru Paul's Drag Race and using every last drop of the hot water that morning has ensured that. She returns Digg's grin and then checks quickly over her shoulder before flicking on her indicator and taking the off ramp out of the city.

She hasn't told Oliver their destination, but she has told Digg. However, as they turn on to the familiar road that headed towards the Queen estate, she knows Oliver would start asking questions.

"Are we going to the house?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

"Sort of," Felicity replies. "I'll tell you everything when we get there, I promise."

She knows if the roles were reversed, she'd be peppering him with questions about now, but Oliver merely takes her at her word, shifting awkwardly in the cramped back seat. At that moment she knows the biggest annoyance of losing his fortune at the hands of Isobel Rochev is that the lease on his fancy Bentley got cancelled and they're stuck using her Mini for transport.

Once they enter the grounds past the empty guardhouse, Felicity takes the main driveway and parks near the front entrance.

Digg and Oliver immediately step out of the car and she can see them both sweeping the grounds, looking for any signs of intruders. She follows more slowly, hoisting her satchel up onto her shoulder.

"Do you want to explain now, Felicity?" Oliver asks. She shifts uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes. The easy camaraderie of the car ride had dissipated now that they were so close to the house. _He took the wrong woman._

She pushes the memory aside ruthlessly and pulls her tablet out of the bag. "I've managed to isolate and block the wireless signal Slade was using to monitor the cameras he put in the house. I've also targeted each camera's location so we can do a quick sweep and take them all out. I still don't think the house is secure – I've rebooted the security cameras and I've set up some alerts if there's any disturbance, but there are still a lot of weak spots without the security team. So I figured you could grab some supplies to take back to my place."

Oliver seems to be considering her words. "You're leaving something out, Felicity. Why else are we here?"

She takes a chance and meets his gaze. At that moment she knows they are both thinking back to that night when he left her at the mansion as bait for Slade. He obviously thinks she is going to force some sort of discussion about it.

"Months ago you got me to upgrade the wireless security here." He nods, remembering. "While I was monitoring the system, I noticed a signal from within the grounds. At first I figured it was the pool house, but it was further out. There's nothing on the estate plans that show an outbuilding that would fit the signature, so I may have temporarily requisitioned a satellite with infrared capabilities and that's when I found it."

She flicks through her tablet and found the images she was looking for, holding her arm out so Oliver and Digg can see. The images showed a vast underground chamber on the far eastern side of the estate, with tunnels branching out in four separate directions.

"What the hell?" Oliver breathes.

"I think your dad might have had some sort of bunker, Oliver. There's a separate power signal out there, so I'm thinking a generator. I've spent the past few days trawling through records trying to find some trace of it, but it's completely off book."

She hugs the tablet back to her chest. "I think I may have found us a new lair."

"Nice work, Felicity." Digg smiles. "It's a little too far out from Starling to be a permanent main base, but for now it's perfect."

Oliver clasps her shoulder briefly and squeezes. "He's right, this could be exactly what we need."

She smiles. "Let's not get too excited. Maybe your dad was just really into the security of his wine and it's actually a wine cellar." It's on the tip of her tongue to mention one of her first assumptions based on Robert Queen's reputation – secret sex dungeon – but she successfully keeps that from slipping out.

"First thing's first, let's clear those cameras. Digg can help me while you get your stuff."

She hangs back deliberately as Oliver starts towards the entranceway. He glances over his shoulder, his gaze questioning. "I just have to grab some equipment." She lies, waving him on.

She makes Digg wait while she fumbles for a small torch in her satchel before heading in. Stepping in to the empty foyer makes her breath catch in her throat. This is going to be harder than she thought. _Love you._

Felicity shuts her eyes for a moment, trying to conjure up any other memory of the Queen residence, even the time she confronted Moira about knowing the truth of Thea's parentage, but even the bad memories of the house had been replaced by those few minutes where their hastily plotted plan had unfolded.

"Felicity?" she feels Digg move towards her and his hand cups her elbow. "You ok?"

"I…I just need a moment." She opens her eyes, looking up at Digg's concerned face and blinking back tears.

"You thinking about Slade?" he asks quietly. Digg hadn't heard about their plan until it had already been executed. His first reaction had been shock that Oliver had actually agreed to it in the first place, followed quickly by a mixture of concern for Felicity and awe at her courage.

"Not really. Yes and no. God, it was supposed to be this really simple thing, you know?" she has to get it off her chest to someone that might actually talk back. "We come in, he says I have to stay here because Slade took the wrong woman, it's implied I'm the _right_ woman. I wait here with the syringe. He's such a crappy story teller I wrote the lines down for him to memorise. I mean, that lie about the energy drink? The bullet ridden laptop from the coffee shop?"

She takes a shuddering breath and continues, Digg standing close, his hand still resting on her arm. "I thought, this will be easy, it's just a few words. This will mean nothing, it's just a means to an end. But then he looked at me like I was _everything_ to him_._ I thought I was going to puke or something, he's never looked at me like that. And then, then he adlibs. He tells me he loves me. It wasn't necessary, Digg. The message was clear to Slade before then."

"On one hand I felt this incredible hope that he was actually telling the truth, that he really might love me. But then on the other hand I hated that he was taking it further than he had to because he _knew_ how I felt about him and saying that was just cruel if he didn't mean it. And then on the other I hated him because I thought what if he _was_ telling the truth? What if this situation has forced him to be honest and now I'm waiting here for a murderer and I might die and he's wasted all this time and these few minutes are all I'm going to get? And I know that's too many hands, but I don't care."

The tears are sliding down her cheeks now and she's trembling. Digg draws her closer into his arms. He rubs her back with one hand, the other is pressing her head against his chest.

"I know I'm being silly, but I know that every time I'm in this house, all I'm going to think about is that night. I still don't know how much was truth and how much was lie and it's killing me, Digg, it's killing me." Her words are slightly muffled against his chest, so he softens his grip and she pulls back a little.

"I'm sorry, Felicity." She smiles sadly.

"It's not your fault. If anything it's mine for letting myself fall in love with a man that could never be mine. If it's not his damn sense of responsibility, it's him thinking he doesn't deserve happiness because of what he's done. Or it's Laurel. God, I've tried so hard with her Digg, but she just dismisses me like I'm some blonde bimbo. I could handle that before she knew the truth, but now? And he didn't even defend me to her yesterday."

"Felicity, Oliver knows exactly what you do for him and how many times you've saved his life." Digg points out.

Felicity pushes up her glasses so she can rub at her eyes. "I know all that. But Laurel doesn't. And it's obvious she thinks Oliver loves me, though she doesn't understand why. You should have seen her face after Sara got us out. There was this complete and utter shock. It's not fair on her either, I suppose, to be kept in the dark. I don't know, Digg. I'm so confused and all over the place. One minute I'm fine and the next I'm like this." She gestures to her red eyes.

Digg thinks about his next words carefully. "Felicity, I think you have to accept that jealousy plays a big part in Laurel's attitude towards you, whether that's based on what she thinks she knows or just what she assumed before finding out about our night job. I think you just have to let it go and if we have to work with Laurel just push past all the crap and treat her like you would anyone else. Then it's her problem."

"As for Oliver." Digg exhales. "Man, this really isn't my place. I think it's safe to say you're not the only one that's confused. It's only been a few days and I think you need to give it some time. He put up so many walls to get through that five years and we're getting through to him piece by piece. _You're_ getting through to him."

Felicity nods, miserably. "I know. I think these last few months have just got me so worked up. I can barely believe it's all over, you know? I still expect something else horrible to happen. I just wish there was something happy to concentrate on."

Digg smiles. "I think I can help you there. Lyla and I were going to tell you both next week, but if you promise to act surprised then, I'll tell you now. Promise?"

"Cross my heart." She vows, tracing a cross over her heart like she used to do as a kid. Digg's smile widens.

"Well it turns out there's going to be a little Diggle in a few months."

Felicity squeals and throws herself at Digg, nearly dropping her tablet in the process. "Digg! That is so, so great! I'm so happy for you both! Does this mean I can be Aunt Felicity? Because I won't lie, that would be awesome."

Digg grins down at her. "Of course you're going to be Aunt Felicity. We wouldn't have it any other way. Now, let's get these cameras so we can go and check out that new lair. I'm really hoping it is a bunker and not some secret sex cave."

Her mouth drops open. "I thought exactly the same thing!"

They meet Oliver beside Felicity's car half an hour later, with a quick trip to the powder room confirming Felicity no longer looks like she's been crying. Oliver's leaning again the car, two large duffle bags resting by his feet. He stows them in the trunk and then Felicity is driving them along the main drive, then taking a side lane that winds back around the house. Her eyes keep flicking towards her tablet screen where a blinking dot representing the car is moving steadily closer to the cavern.

The manicured gardens surrounding the mansion have given way to the heavily wooded hills that make up the bulk of the estate. After crawling along for twenty minutes, the road veers sharply to the right. Felicity pulls up before the turn, a large sheer rock face towers in front of them.

"Huh." She mutters. "We're practically on top of it. Maybe there's a crawl space through the rocks somewhere?"

They exit the car, Digg and Oliver moving over to the rock face while Felicity runs her scanners. Within seconds, she's located a low range wireless signal and she hacks into it. Digg and Oliver stumble back as a large portion of the rock face starts to drop back into the hill, splitting open to reveal a wide cavern with dim lights dotted along the walls leading off into the dark.

"Holy crap." She breathes.

"You've got that right." Oliver agrees. He reaches forward to poke at the doors. What looks like rock, even from this close distance, is thick steel coated in a lightweight substance that has been painted by a master to blend directly into the surrounding rock.

"Have you got full control of that door, Felicity?" Digg asks. She nods. "Then let's move your car in, just in case."

The car moved, Felicity shuts the doors behind them. Digg has his gun drawn and Oliver has snagged his bow and quiver from the trunk of the car. They move quietly along the tunnel, the lights stretching out ahead of them. Felicity follows up behind, tracking their progress.

"The main cavern is about fifty feet ahead," she murmurs. Oliver draws an arrow and loosely nocks it as they move forward.

The lights grow brighter as they get closer and suddenly they're standing in an enormous cavern. Three more tunnels can be made out stretching in other direction. There's a wall of monitors that reveal a feed of the estate's many security cameras once Felicity hacks into the system to turn them on. Piping runs along the roof down to a small kitchenette and Digg discovers a bathroom nearby. There's an alcove slightly elevated to the main space that reveals a small office and Oliver recognises his father's handwriting on the dusty sheets laying on the surface of a large desk.

"There's the wine," Felicity points out an impressive wall of shelves, almost every nook holding a dusty bottle. "I was half right."

"So, this was like your dad's secret office?" Felicity asks. "I don't get it, surely your Mom knowing everything about the undertaking meant he could just conduct any business on that front from the house?"

"I have absolutely no idea, Felicity." Oliver replies eventually, his eyes roaming the large facility. She can tell he's already picturing an expanded workout space for him and Digg, an area for his motorcycle. Hell, she's practically got the redesign of her workstation already worked out.

"How long before we can get the security set up?" Oliver asks her and Digg.

"It shouldn't take too long to hack into all the systems. They're at least six years old, so I'll need to upgrade everything, but from my end I reckon we can move in by the end of the week?" She glances at Digg for confirmation and he nods.

"We can do a full sweep of the rest of the tunnels today, but it's pretty obvious this place hasn't seen a soul since before your father died."

Oliver glances around. His father's mark has been left everywhere, from the bottles of his favourite scotch sitting near the desk to the small shelf full of copies of his favourite books. It feels right to be here and Oliver smiles at his friends.

"We'd better get started then."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Again, thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. This chapter finally earns the M rating! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4**

A week of hard work passes and Felicity is perched on her chair in the new lair, overseeing a diagnostic on the security protocols. In reality she's watching Oliver and Digg spar in their expanded training area. Both men are stripped to the waist, their torsos glistening and muscles flexing under taut skin.

Felicity hums with approval as she watches the rapid fire strikes and blocks. "And Oliver questioned why I wanted my desk to face this way." She laughs quietly to herself.

"Enjoying yourself over there?" She starts at the sound of Oliver's voice. He sounds slightly out of breath, which is a sign of just how hard he and Digg are training. He drops quickly, swinging one leg around to sweep Digg off his feet, then stands back with his hands up, signalling a break. He glances over to Felicity, enjoying the flustered look on her at being caught staring.

"Enjoying myself? Oh, you know how I love to run diagnostics." He merely raises one eyebrow in response before leaning over to offer Digg a hand and then dragging him to his feet.

"You know, Felicity, we should probably pick your training back up." Digg says evenly. "It's been a while since we last trained and I really want to get your skills back up."

"Uh, now?" she glances down at the silk blouse and pencil skirt combo she's paired with her purple satin pumps. "I'm not really dressed for it, Digg."

"I can see that. Bring along some of your running clothes next time, ok?" He grins, unwinding the tape from his hands.

Felicity nods, her glance flicking over to Oliver. The majority of her training has been with Digg, with Sara chipping in the rest. Not once has Oliver taken one of her sessions. She allows herself to imagine Oliver taking the lead, playing the attacker and wrapping his arm around her from behind, pulling her body tight against his bare chest. The thought makes her squirm a little in her seat. She turns back to her monitors, conscious of the fact she's blushing.

"What do you think, Oliver?" Digg asks. Oliver's focus is on Felicity, taking in the hint of pink high on her cheeks and how her bottom lip is caught in her teeth. They've spent almost every moment in each other's company since returning from Lian Yu. If they're not working at the lair, they're at her apartment. Oliver has been ruthlessly pushing aside any thought of that night at the mansion, but every day he's seen the need in Felicity to talk about it. Hell, _he_ needs to talk about it.

"Hmm?" he responds, turning back to Digg, who is watching Oliver with bemusement. "Yeah, you should start training her again, good idea."

"I thought _we_ should both do it." Digg says blandly. "You know, so Felicity has experience with different techniques."

Oliver gives Digg a look. In the glow of his own personal happiness, Digg has been less than subtle in suggesting Oliver needs to talk things through with Felicity.

"Uh, guys?" Felicity calls out from her workstation. "You should come see this."

They make their way to her side and she leans over to turn the volume up on her screen.

"In breaking news, millionaire art dealer Jeremy Morgenstern has been killed this morning at an explosion at his home in the exclusive Starlight Heights suburb." The reporter on Channel 52 says smoothly.

"What-" Oliver starts to ask.

"Just wait." Felicity says.

"Not long after the explosion, Channel 52 received a video from a man purporting to be responsible for the bombing. We show this to you now."

The picture switches to a man's face hidden by shadows. The voice has been digitally altered so as to be unrecognisable. "For too long the wealthy of Starling have treated this City with contempt. They planned the assault on the Glades, they stood by and watched our homes and businesses burn in the riots. Now they will pay. Jeremy Morgenstern is but the first. More will follow, including the man whose family thought it ruled this city but who led dragged it to its knees."

The transmission ends abruptly. Felicity turns the volume down as the reporter switches to the next story.

"Well?" she demands, spinning back to look at Digg and Oliver. "What are we going to do? This man's going to try and kill you, Oliver. How are we going to stop him if he's got you in his sights the entire time?"

"Felicity, he's after the wealthy in Starling. Did you miss the part where I lost my family's fortune thanks to Isobel?" he says evenly. It's clear that Felicity is worked up and he doesn't want to upset her further.

"Oliver, you may be penniless by billionaire standards, but you still have a multimillion dollar trust fund. Not to mention the fact that Walter is working on getting QC back. Hell, we're sitting in an underground bunker on the enormous estate you still own. You might be cash poor at the minute, but you're still wealthy according to most people." Felicity leans forward to place a hand on Oliver's bare forearm. "Besides, he mentioned you specifically."

"She's right, man." Digg adds. "That crack about the family ruling Starling and bringing it to its knees. It's got to be a play on the Queen name and a reference to your mother's role in the Undertaking."

Felicity notices the twitch in Oliver's jaw at Digg's mention of his mother and her heart aches for him. She may not have liked Moira and, quite frankly, was a little terrified of her, but she was still Oliver's mother and in the end she sacrificed herself to save her children. It's only been a few weeks since her murder and the pain has to be still raw.

"Fine, I'll be careful. Starting with me moving out of your apartment, Felicity."

She starts at that, jumping to her feet to stand directly in front of him. "What? Are you serious? That's the worst thing you can do!"

"Felicity…" he drags her name out, his hand reaching over to her arm. "I can't stay, I can't put you in danger."

"Don't be ridiculous." She snaps. "No one is going to think Oliver Queen would be staying in his assistant's spare room. My neighbours are all elderly and basically blind so they wouldn't recognise you if were standing right in front of them. No one is going to know you're there."

"Felicity, please." He says.

"No. Don't you dare "Felicity, please" me." She pushes herself closer to him, poking one blue-tipped finger in his bare chest. "You need to realise that we want to help you. I know the risks, Oliver. I'm willing to take them to help you stay alive." Her voice trails off towards the end as she watches the expression in his eyes soften.

They stand silently, eyes locked on each other, Digg's presence temporarily forgotten. Felicity's heart is pounding in her chest as she realises they're unintentionally recreating that night in the mansion. She lets the hand poking at his chest flatten until her palm is laying flat over his heart. His hand reaches up to enclose hers.

"Okay," he says at last. "I'll stay."

Felicity lets out a breath and gives him a shaky smile.

"But we're upping the security in your apartment again. If you accept the risk of me staying we're at least going to minimise that risk, right Digg?"

Felicity pulls back her hand and takes a step back as she finally remembers Digg's standing right near them. She shoots him an embarrassed smile.

"Glad you two remembered I was here." Digg smirks. "But yeah, I'll come over this afternoon and start installing some new gear."

"Thanks, Digg." Oliver replies. There's an almost awkward moment of silence before Felicity pulls back further, checking her watch and exclaiming at the time.

"I've got to go, my shift starts soon."

"Shift, what shift?" Oliver asks in confusion.

She starts gathering her stuff while she talks, shutting down the computers that Digg and Oliver won't need while she's gone. "I told you I was looking for a job. I don't want to eat through my savings. I got a job doing tech support at a local electronics store. It's going to be even worse than doing support at QC, but it'll bring in the cash and the hours won't interfere with our work here. Now, I'll see you guys later on."

She flits off towards the northern tunnel where her Mini is parked before Oliver can object.

"You want to talk about what just happened?" Digg asks as they watch the rear lights of Felicity's car fade as she drives off down the tunnel.

"Is there something to talk about?" Oliver asks, stepping down from Felicity's workstation and back over to the workout space.

"Oliver, enough is enough, man." Digg responds, following him. "You need to talk to her, tell her how you feel."

"I know, Digg. I love her, but I don't deserve her." Digg takes in his friend's expression, a mirror of the misery he saw that day they returned from Lian Yu.

"She thinks you deserve her. All this time, she's seen the man you want to be. More than anyone, she's believed in you. " Digg claps a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "You deserve happiness, Oliver. Don't deny yourself that."

Oliver stands there, thinking about Digg's words as his friend heads for the shower.

Hours later, Felicity stifles a yawn as she lets herself into her apartment. She kicks off her shoes at the door and wiggles her toes, sighing with pleasure to be home. She can smell something cooking, so she knows Oliver has to be home. "Oliver?" she calls out, dumping her bag near the couch.

He emerges from his room wearing dark jeans and a light blue Henley that makes his eyes look even bluer, his feet charmingly bare. "Hey." He says, smiling.

"Hey yourself. Have you been cooking?" she asks incredulously. She pulls the ibis clip from her hair, letting the blonde waves tumble down over her shoulders.

She misses the way his eyes darken as he takes in her tousled locks as she heads towards her room.

"Yeah, just pasta. I'm ninety per cent sure it's edible." She glances over her shoulder and grins.

"Those are pretty good odds. Do you want to open some wine while I get changed? I really, really need some after the afternoon I've had. Did Digg come over?" Her voice muffles slightly and Oliver knows she's getting changed. He determinedly heads towards the small wine rack in Felicity's kitchen and selects a bottle of red.

"We installed some silent alarms on the windows and upgraded the main security system. If anyone breaks in, the system will make calls to emergency services, plus also to yours, mine and Digg's phones." Oliver uncorks the bottle and settles it on the bench. He's hunting for wine glasses when Felicity emerges wearing her pajamas – a purple striped tank over knee length pants in a contrasting pattern. Her feet are bare and he notices that her toenails are painted blue to match her fingernails.

"I can feel you judging me. I'll have you know it is past six o'clock and that's an acceptable time to wear pajamas." She slides on to a stool at the kitchen bench, leaning over to snag an empty glass from his hand.

"I said nothing." He laughs, reaching for the bottle to pour her wine.

"Mmm, wine. My darling." She murmurs appreciatively as he pours her a generous glass. He won't deny his breath catches at her words until he realises she's talking to the wine.

"Do you want me to leave you two alone?" he asks, gesturing with his own glass.

"Well three is a crowd." Felicity grins.

"How about you take a seat at the table and I'll serve up dinner?"

Felicity looks at him in astonishment. "Cooking and now table service? From former billionaire playboy Oliver Queen? I won't say no."

She takes a seat at the small dining table, sipping her wine and watching as Oliver moves around her kitchen like it's his own. She'd be lying if she didn't find the sight of him outrageously attractive. Felicity pretty much always finds Oliver outrageously attractive, but the sight of him walking around her apartment, dishtowel over one shoulder, inspires a whole different sort of feeling in her.

Felicity knows she's on dangerous ground, so she makes a concerted effort to think nice, neutral thoughts as Oliver brings over two bowls, setting one in front of her.

He sits near beside her and picks up his fork, hesitating over the bowl. He glances across and catches her eye.

"Oliver, are you afraid to eat food you made yourself?" she laughs.

Oliver smiles sheepishly. "I'm not much of a cook."

"Neither am I, as you've discovered during your stay. In recognition of your effort, I'm going to take the first bite." Felicity forks several pieces of pasta and pops it into her mouth. There's the briefest of pauses before she chews with a concentrated look on her face.

"It's, um, nice." She says, swallowing.

"Liar." He spears his own piece of pasta and pulls a face. "That is really pretty bad."

"How much oregano did you use?" Felicity asks, braving another piece.

"Which one's the oregano?"

"Oliver!" she's laughing too hard to eat now and he grins at the sight. He notices a small splash of sauce at the corner of her mouth and before he can think, he leans forward and wipes the pad of his thumb along her lower lip.

She stills immediately, watching as he lifts the thumb to his own mouth, sucking off the sauce.

"You had a little sauce. It's gone now." His voice is deeper and his gaze is locked on hers.

"Oliver…" she breathes. "Don't, please don't, not if you don't mean it."

He drops his fork and takes her hand. "Felicity, that night in the mansion, I meant every word. Every single word."

"You did?" her voice is soft and hopeful. His thumb is tracing back and forth over the back of her hand.

"Yes. I love you, Felicity. I want to be with you." He watches the slight intake of breath, the look in her eyes and then she throws herself at him, her lips seeking out his.

He slips his arms around her, dragging her against his chest so she's half sprawled in his lap, her legs still tangled in her seat.

Her lips part beneath his and he deepens the kiss, his blood rushing at the sound of her little moans.

Felicity's arms are wound around his waist and she lets her fingers drag up the hem on his shirt, searching for his skin.

All at once Oliver surges to his feet, both of their chairs toppling over as he hauls her up into his arms, every inch of her body pressed against his. He stumbles back over to the couch, letting himself fall back, leaving Felicity sprawled on his chest. She breaks away from him, her hands braced on his chest, her breath coming short.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, reaching one hand up to cup the side of her face, his fingertips tangling in her hair.

She smiles down at him, pressing her cheek into his palm. "So are you," she responds, leaning down to kiss him. She pulls back again and her hands go to the hem of her tank top. He reaches out to still her hands.

"We don't have to-" she quiets him with another kiss, then pulls off her top, revealing a shell pink bra and the swell of her breasts. He surges up, pressing against her as he kisses her hungrily.

"Your shirt." She gasps as his mouth moves to her neck. She helps him peel off the shirt, tossing it aside and then she pushes him back down onto the couch, her hands tracing every scar as she follows with lips and tongue.

His hands find the clasp of her bra and they still, waiting for her permission. "Please," she whispers. He flicks it open and she sits up almost shyly, pulling the straps down her arms. His breath catches as she pulls it away, revealing herself to him.

"Felicity," his voice is deep and gravelly.

"Take me to bed." He doesn't need a second invitation as for the second time he takes her up in his arms and heads to her room. He lets her slide down his body until her feet touch the floor and then her hands are at the waistband of his jean, twisting the stud out of the buttonhole. He helps her shove his jeans and boxer briefs to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them aside before turning his attention to her pajama bottoms.

In seconds she's as naked as him and he pulls back to sweep his eyes down her body, taking in the narrowness of her waist and the sweet curve of her hips, his hands tracing down her side, marvelling in the feel of her skin.

Felicity draws him back against her, loving the way his hard body feels against her softness. She starts lowering herself towards the bed and he follows her, his hands everywhere as his mouth moves to her neck.

"Please, Oliver, please." She's pleading now, in no mood to wait any longer for the feel of him inside her. One of his large hands slips between her thighs, finding proof of her readiness.

"Do you have any…?"

"Beside drawer." She pants, her nails scratching over his shoulders. He quickly locates a condom and sheaths himself before settling between her thighs.

"I love you." Felicity whispers, her hand reaching up to trace down the side of his face.

"Love you, too." He sinks forward, his eyes locked on her face, watching her kiss-swollen lips part soundlessly as he fills her.

"Oh, Oliver, please." She digs her nails in and cries out as he starts to move, driving into her with sure strokes. His mouth finds hers, his hand slipping between their bodies to her core.

With a few deft strokes, Felicity tightens around him, her cries of pleasure driving Oliver towards his own completion.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Still loving those reviews, follows and favourites! **

**Chapter 5**

She wakes to the sensation of Oliver's hand tracing lightly up and down her bare back. She gives a little shiver of delight at the sensation and scores her nails lightly across his taut abdomen in retaliation.

"Mmm," Felicity hums, pressing her lips against his chest. "If you keep doing that, we're not getting out of bed today."

"Promise?" his voice is sleep roughened and muffled from where his lips are pressing into her hair. Her heart gives a little flip at the sound. She's heard almost every type of voice Oliver Queen has; playboy, CEO, vigilante, hero, friend, but this voice is different from all of them.

She wriggles more firmly against his side and he tightens his grip, pulling her half across her chest so they're eye to eye.

"Hi." He leans forward and presses his lips to hers, her mouth opening beneath his allowing his tongue to stroke hers. They both allow their hands to wander; his sweeping down her back, hers delicately following the scars that pepper his skin.

"I could get use to waking up like this." She smiles a few minutes later when their lips part.

"Me too." His arms circle around her and she rests her head in the crook of Oliver's neck, her lips pressing against the pulse point. Felicity basks in the feeling of being in Oliver's arms, the urge to get up and dance with delight warring with the need to stay pressed against him until they have to move.

"What changed your mind?" she asks quietly. The previous night she hadn't cared why, she'd been overcome with the need to just be with him. But now she needs to hear him say the words. She reasons that he probably needs to say them as well.

"Digg, mostly." Oliver begins. "He's known for a while how I felt about you and he kept telling me to confess to you. But I didn't want to put you anymore at risk than you already were by being around me and I didn't think I deserved to be with someone like you."

Felicity pulls her head up slightly to look straight at him, her hand coming up to touch his face. "Any risk is risk that I'm willing to accept to be with you to help this city. You're a good man, Oliver Queen. You deserve to be happy and you deserve to be loved. Don't you ever forget that." She kisses him softly again, her nails lightly scratching down through the stubble that's the only thing stopping him from being described as pretty. He's still the most beautiful man she's ever seen, but the whiskers give him a dangerous edge.

"I know that know and I'll have you around to remind me if I ever forget." He allows himself a moment to tangle his fingers through her hair. "I owe you an apology, Felicity."

"Oliver…" she says lightly. "You don't have to apologise."

"I do. I toyed with your emotions because I couldn't handle my feelings and what they might mean. And then there's Laurel." He feels her tense slightly and his hands smooth down her flanks, trying to soothe her. "I should have defended you last week. Next time I see her, she'll know exactly what you mean to me."

"I don't want you to ruin your relationship with Laurel because of me. I know how important she is to you." She whispers.

"Felicity, look at me." He lifts her chin so she meets his eyes. "I won't deny that Laurel is important to me, but she's in my past. You're my future and if she can't accept that then that's her loss."

She warms at his words and takes his lips in a bruising kiss, shuffling so that she's straddling his hips. She sits up, tossing her hair over one shoulder and then leans back down to capture his right earlobe lightly in her teeth.

Felicity can feel his length hardening against her and she wriggles encouragingly, drawing a groan deep from his throat. She reaches over to the bedside table, fumbling for a condom. She sits up properly, sliding back to take him in her hands, stroking him with one hand while she rips the foil packet open with her teeth. Oliver's eyes darken and his body shudders beneath her touch.

"Don't tease." He growls as her hand grows bolder. She grins saucily, stroking him firmly before rolling the condom down his length. She kneels up over him, leaning over him to capture his mouth before lowering her hips. He guides himself between her thighs and they both groan as he slides within her.

Felicity isn't that experienced with men, and she's always been a bit shy in the bedroom, but being with Oliver, a man she's loved for nearly two years, is liberating. She leans back, clutching his thighs to support her weight as she undulates her hips. Oliver's hands travel over every inch of her he can reach, cupping her breasts and then smoothing down her sides to rest at her waist. He begins to push up with his hips while dragging her down against him.

She wants it to last, but the sensations he's creating in her have her peaking quickly. She collapses against his chest, her body throbbing around his still hard length. Suddenly Oliver rolls them over, hitching one of her thighs over his hip before and pushing into her.

"Again," he says roughly, his body working to pull her back to the peak. "Again, Felicity. Come with me." He captures her lips with his again, holding his weight off her with one arm while his other hand frames the side of her face.

His hand slips down between them then and Felicity's soon shouting her release as he thrusts into her, his body shuddering with the force of his release, his voice gasping her name in her ear.

"God, I love you." She gasps, pulling his face to hers and tangling her tongue with his.

The temptation is there to stay in bed all day, but life intrudes when both Felicity's phone chirps with a new message. She untangles herself from Oliver and he gets up, heading to the bathroom.

"It's from Digg," she calls out. "There's been another bombing."

* * *

They arrive at the lair forty five minutes later on Oliver's Ducati. He pulls up next to the bike he rides as the Arrow and holds a hand out for Felicity to grab so she can climb off. Felicity's hands are trembling as she pulling off the helmet and shakes out her still-damp hair.

"Wow, who knew riding on a motorbike was so…invigorating." Her legs are wobbling. Oliver shoots her a grin and snags her hand.

Digg is leaning over her workstation, his brow furrowed as he studies the various monitors, but at the sound of their arrival, he glances up. Felicity sees the moment his eyes flick down to her hand joined with Oliver's and she smiles shyly at Digg.

"About time," he grins, pushing away from the desk to stand straight.

Felicity disentangles her fingers from Oliver and takes a seat at her workstation. "Who was it this time?" Later there will be time to talk to Digg, but Felicity wants to ensure that she and Oliver being together isn't going to affect her work at the lair.

"Gordon Frost, defence attorney for some of Starling's most powerful. He kept a lot of bad people out of jail over the years." Digg swipes at the touch screen, bringing up the news reports.

Felicity's hands are flying over the keys as she brings up the police reports for each case. "The same materials were used for each bomb, the police think it's someone with experience working with explosives."

"Military? Or police, maybe?" Oliver queries. "Someone hurt in the undertaking or the riots?"

"I'm working on it," Felicity responds, her eyes fixed on the screen as she cross references casualty and property losses against service records. "There are a few possibilities. A couple of vets that lost their homes in the undertaking, a cop whose wife died in the riots. Some independent explosives contractors that got a building dropped on them in the quake, one of whom lost a leg. All have the relevant technical expertise and a reason to be going after the rich of Starling, but I don't know which one is responsible. There's no physical evidence from the crime scenes to narrow it down."

"So how many suspects do we have? Five?" Digg asks. "We're gonna need to trim that list down somehow."

"I'm tracking their financial information looking for any anomalies now," Felicity replies, "but that could be a dead end. I'll start looking for something that links Frost and Morgenstern together and hopefully that leads us to our guy."

"Good." Oliver's hand rests lightly on her shoulder, his fingertips pressing down gently. She resists the urge to give a little purr of satisfaction at his touch. It's the same gesture he's done dozens of times when he's been pleased with her work, but there's so much more feeling behind it now.

"In the meantime, I suggest you keep a low profile, Oliver." Digg says. "If this guy's gunning for you we can't give him an easy target."

Oliver glances over at his friend. "Not planning on it, Digg."

"I've got an alert on any news or gossip stories that pop up on you." Felicity pipes up. "I'm removing any information that could point to your whereabouts and planting some false trails. Common opinion at this point is that you're holed up in one of Starling's luxury hotels with a pair of underwear models." She flips a grin over her shoulder at Oliver.

"Just a pair? The press will never believe that I could be so restrained." Felicity rolls her eyes at the teasing tone in his voice.

"Well let's just hope they don't find out you're actually sleeping in the spare room of your executive assistant. I hate to think what that would do for your reputation." She quips lightly, spinning around in her chair to regard Oliver, a gleam in her eye as she considers where he actually slept last night. Not that they'd really done that much sleeping.

A slow smile creeps over Oliver's face as his mind goes to the same place as Felicity's.

Digg rolls his eyes. "You know, I probably wouldn't have encouraged you if I knew I was going to be constantly faced with goo-goo eyes and innuendo."

Before Oliver can respond, his phone chirps with a message. He fishes it out. "It's Laurel."

Felicity schools her features in what she hopes is a calm and trusting expression. "Oh?"

Oliver looks up, catching her eye. "Detective Lance is awake."

* * *

"You didn't have to come, you know." Oliver says as he and Felicity stride down the hospital corridor. Her hand is clasped firmly within his and she is hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

"I did, though. Detective Lance is a friend and I want to see for myself that he's okay." She says earnestly. "I just hope Laurel will be okay with me being here."

Oliver stops suddenly and Felicity totters slightly on her heels, clutching at his hand. He pulls her towards him, his hand squeezing her. "I'd like to think that the Laurel Lance I know would be glad that you're concerned about her father, Felicity. But she's probably still angry at me from last week, so I'm going to talk to her, ok? She needs to know what you mean to me, I won't have her attacking you."

She squeezes his hand. "That means a lot, thanks."

"Well you mean a lot to me." He leans over and presses a light kiss to her lips, then resumes walking along the corridor, his hand still firmly around hers.

Lance's door is ajar and Felicity hovers in the doorway as Oliver takes a step inside. "Laurel?"

Laurel is sitting on her father's bed, the smile on her face as she talks with her father becoming slightly hard as she takes in Oliver and Felicity.

"Ollie." There's a pause. "Felicity."

"Hey. We're glad to hear you're back with us, Detective Lance." Oliver steps further in to the room, Felicity following tentatively.

"You and me, both, Queen." Detective Lance's voice is rougher than usual and his face has gained a few extra lines. He looks past Oliver and his face settles in to a smile as he sees Felicity. "Miss Smoak. Good to see you."

"Detective." She grins in return. She can feel Laurel's surprise directed her way. Laurel clearly hadn't realised since finding out about Oliver that Felicity is the Arrow's link to Detective Lance. Felicity steps past Oliver and takes the hand Laurel isn't holding, flicking a brief glance Laurel's direction before fixing her attention on Detective Lance.

"Laurel, can I talk to you for a second?" Oliver says quietly. Laurel hesitates slightly.

"I'll keep an eye on him for you." Felicity says. She starts chatting away to Quentin, resolutely not watching as Laurel gets up and follows Oliver out to the corridor.

"I'm glad your dad is okay." Oliver says, his hand reaching out to rest on Laurel's elbow. She allows his hand to sit for a moment before pulling her arm away, tucking both arms around her middle.

"Thanks." She says tightly. "You know, I was this close to berating you for parading your girlfriend in front of me, but she clearly knows my father."

Oliver takes a breath, not allowing Laurel's words to anger him. "'She' has a name, Laurel." He says tightly. "Felicity is important to me, both as Oliver and the Arrow. You need to realise that. She's saved my life more times than I can count."

"Just how important, Ollie?" Laurel demands, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing her gaze on him. "Was Slade right? Is she the woman you love?"

He meets her eyes. Everything in her gaze tells him that she wants him to say no. "Yes. She's the woman I love."

The confirmation hits Laurel like a physical blow. "But, I thought…" she trails off, hurt on her face.

"I'll always love you, Laurel. But we can't be together. You know that. There's just so much between us, too much hurt and anger and neither of us deserves that history hanging over us." He says softly.

"I don't accept that." She says firmly. "We belong together, Ollie and you know it. Even Sara knew it."

"Laurel, please. I want you to accept this. I _need_ you to accept this. I love Felicity and she's going to be part of my life." His voice is firmer now. "I know this isn't easy."

"You're right, it's not." She snaps. Her arms are loose by her side now, her fists clenching and opening.

Oliver hears the click of Felicity's heels as she walks out of Lance's room. "Your dad's asking for you." She says tentatively to Laurel, taking in the tension between her and Oliver. _Nice timing, Smoak_, she thinks to herself. She really did not want to get caught in the middle of this.

Laurel says nothing, her glare remaining on Oliver. Felicity huffs in irritation, her tolerance for being treated like she's nothing by everyone who assumes she's just Oliver's bit of fun on the side at an all-time low.

"Oh, whatever. You're going to have to acknowledge my existence at some point, Laurel." She leans over and snags Oliver's hand, her heart pounding. She can't quite believe she snapped at Laurel like that. "We should go."

He nods, his eyes still on Laurel. "Please, Laurel." He says simply. She turns her face away and stalks back into her father's room. Sighing, Oliver allows Felicity to lead him away.

She's silent until they make it to the elevators. "I'm really sorry, Oliver. I know that didn't go as you were hoping."

"Understatement." He scoffs. "I can't really believe she reacted like that."

Felicity decides not to offer her own opinion. Oliver might not be in love with Laurel Lance anymore, but he's still blind when it comes to her. Personally, Felicity was expecting a bit more venom aimed in her direction. It's clear that Laurel believes that Felicity is just another temporary roadblock between she and Oliver being together. Well this roadblock plans on being a permanent fixture.

"Well I hope she comes around. Not for my sake, I don't need Laurel's stamp of approval on this relationship. But because I know how much she means to you."

He slings an arm around her shoulders, dragging her to his side and pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're remarkable, you know that?"

"Thank you for remarking on it." She smiles.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: As usual, thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites, I love every single one. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

"We're getting closer, Son. Trust me. We'll have you back in charge of Queen Consolidated soon." Oliver nods at Walter's words. They're sitting in Walter's office at Starling National Bank, away from the cold formality of his desk, at two large chairs near the window overlooking Starling's financial district.

"I hope so. I never wanted the responsibility of Queen Consolidated," Oliver replies. "But I owe it to my family, my employees, myself even, to do everything I can to get it back. And to be honest, I kind of enjoyed the challenge."

Walter leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regards his stepson. "You're doing the right thing. Your parents would both be proud of you, Oliver, Moira especially."

The mention of his mother brings the usual flash of pain, guilt and loss to Oliver, emotions that he sees echoed on Walter's face. Despite the pain of her betrayal of him prior to the undertaking, Oliver knows that Walter still loved Moira and her murder at the hands of Slade has hit him hard.

"Have you heard from Thea lately?" Walter asks, abruptly changing the topic. Oliver's grateful for the reprieve.

"Not as much as I'd like." He replies. "I've had the odd text here and there telling me she's found an apartment and a job."

"Well that's something at least." Walter says quietly. "I do wish she'd stayed in Starling, but I understand her reasons. She's gone through so much for one so young."

They sit in easy silence, both thinking of the upheaval in Thea's life. The loss of her brother and father, the addition of a stepfather had been momentous enough. But then the elation of Oliver's return had accompanied a raft of new problems for Thea. Oliver winces as he thinks back on all she's gone through. He thought she'd finally got back on track managing Verdant and being with Roy, but then Slade decided to toy with her by telling her of her true parentage. He wishes Thea would call him, but for once he's prepared to give her the space she obviously needs.

The chirp of Oliver's phone breaks their reverie and he fishes it out of his pocket, voicing his apologies for the interruption to Walter who waves them off. His mood lifts when he notes the name on the screen.

"Felicity." He finds himself smiling into the phone.

"Are you still with Walter? I have a potential new lead I need to discuss with you and Digg." Her voice echoes slightly and he can hear her rapid typing in the background, indicating she's put him on speakerphone while she continues working.

"I'll be there soon. Forty minutes?" he quickly checks his watch. The estate is roughly twenty minutes out of Starling, but he and Digg have to stow the town car they've hired to keep up appearances for investors while he has meetings regarding QC.

"Okay, I'll see you soon. Love you."

"You too." He responds. He slides the phone back into his pocket and meets the bemused smile of Walter.

"Miss Smoak, I take it?" Walter queries.

"Yes." He wonders for a moment if Felicity would care if his stepfather knows about them, then figures she wouldn't. She likes Walter and her calling him as his girlfriend provides an unexpected cover for her actual reasons. "We've recently started seeing each other."

Walter's smile broadens and he leans over to clap a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Oliver. She's quite a girl. Pass on my well wishes, won't you?"

"Of course." He stands up, rebuttoning the top button on his jacket. "I should leave you, I know you're busy and Felicity was just reminding me about our lunch date."

"Certainly. I'll call you when I hear something back from the SEC." Walter stands as well and the two men shake hands.

"I can't thank you enough for all this, Walter." Oliver says with conviction. "I wouldn't have known where to start."

"That's what family's for, Oliver. Don't forget it."

Three quarters of an hour later, Oliver and Digg arrive back at the lair to find Felicity waiting for them.

"So I've been looking in to Morgenstern and Frost, looking for any possible connection." She begins before either Digg or Oliver can say a word. Oliver hides a smile. Felicity has been very deliberate about maintaining a professional relationship in the lair in front of Digg, to the point that she's started skipping greetings all together.

"Find anything?" Digg asks. He shoots Oliver a bemused glance that says he's noticed Felicity's new approach to workplace relations.

"The only thing so far is that they were both involved in a charity set up to help underprivileged kids in the Glades called A Helping Hand to Education." She replies, flicking the touch screen to bring up several photos showing Morgenstern and Frost amongst a group.

"That isn't so unusual, Felicity. There's got to be a dozen charities set up by the rich of Starling." Oliver points out.

"I know, but this charity has been investigated in the past for being a front." Felicity announces. "The charity is supposed to provide educational supplies to underprivileged kids, but there was evidence to suggest that they were actually funnelling the money into providing weapons for gangs. Then the gangs would target specific areas on the fringes of the Glades, driving down property prices."

"And then that leaves the rich to swoop in and buy up property." Digg finishes.

Oliver glances over Felicity's shoulder, taking in the long list of properties that had been bought up by investors and developers since the charity had been founded. "This predates the undertaking by two years." He says, noting the date of the charity's founding.

"Which widens our pool of suspects." Felicity sighs. "I've identified another three suspects with the relevant experience who were affected by the gang violence. And, can I just point out that I'm a little uncomfortable with the number of explosives experts in this city that have a potential grudge?"

Digg crosses his arms and glances at Oliver. "So what's our next step? I'm guessing that the fact that this charity is still in existence means that the accusations weren't proven?"

"Correct. The evidence just 'happened' to disappear just before the undertaking." Felicity replies, punctuating her words with air quotes.

"We need to find out more about this charity, find out who is involved, find more potential bombing victims." Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Oliver silently curses Isabel Rochev. The fortune that came with control of Queen Consolidated was particularly useful for throwing money at problems like this, significant amounts of money that could get you exactly what you needed. A donation in the tens of thousands would have easily got them through the door.

"Well, luckily for you, A Helping Hand to Education sent out invitations to its upcoming gala function before Isabel's took over Queen Consolidated." Felicity pulls up a scan of an invitation. "It's in two days time."

She turns her chair halfway to regard Oliver. "Should I get your other suit drycleaned?" she asks.

"That depends," he responds. "Do I get a plus one?"

* * *

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Oliver leans over to whisper in Felicity's ear.

She tilts her head, looking up at him through her lashes. "Once or twice, but it's something that can always be repeated."

"Guys." Digg's voice chirps in their earpieces. "I'm right here. Please."

Oliver grins. "Sorry, Digg. Just telling the lady the truth."

"Heads up," Digg replies. "Some likely targets heading your way."

Felicity smooths down her sapphire blue gown with one hand, the other is tucked firmly into Oliver's elbow, her fingertips lightly stroking the fine wool of his tuxedo.

"Smile, Felicity." Oliver murmurs. His own society smile is in place as a couple approaches them. She pastes what she hopes is pleasant smile on her face, her fingers tightening ever so slightly on Oliver's arm.

"Oliver Queen." The man stops short in front of Oliver, extending a hand. Oliver takes it, shaking it firmly.

"Charles, it's been a while." Felicity's always amazed at the way Oliver sounds when he's performing as Oliver Queen, billionaire. Or in this case, Oliver Queen, ex-billionaire with a company tied up in mountains of red tape and a trust fund that's seen better days.

"We don't often see you at these events, Oliver." The woman pipes up. "Clearly you've been able to find some time in your schedule."

His smile remains in place, despite the barb. He suspects the state of Queen Consolidated is known by many within these walls, but no one will come out directly and say it. The thin veneer of civility will remain. The very thin veneer.

"I decided to make an exception because Felicity is particularly passionate about this cause." He glances down at Felicity with an indulgent expression and she finds herself smiling back.

"I don't believe we've met?" The woman extends a hand to Felicity. "Veronica Davenport, this is my husband, Charles."

"Felicity Smoak." She replies, lightly grasping Veronica's outstretched hand and nodding in Charles' direction.

"And where did Oliver find you?" Veronica asks, managing to make Felicity sound like a particularly fetching sweater on a sales rack.

"We met at QC," Oliver pipes up. "I needed some IT help and my stepfather Walter told me that Felicity was the best the company had to offer."

"In more ways than one, obviously." Veronica simpers.

Felicity feels Oliver's muscles tensing under her hand at Veronica's words and she presses lightly with her fingertips, reminding him of their mission to keep a low profile and observe for potential targets.

"Oh you have no idea." She says brightly back. "If you'll excuse us, I see someone I simply must speak to."

"Well she was unpleasant." Felicity murmurs as they veer to the left and start weaving through the crowd. "And him, urgh."

"What about him?" Oliver asks. Felicity glances up and notices the tic at the side of his jaw and the flash of anger in his eyes from Veronica's snide comments. Probably best not to mention that Charles Davenport had spent the entirety of their conversation staring blatantly at her cleavage.

"Oh, you know, just stood there not saying anything. So rude." She replies airily, then pulls up short.

"What, Felicity?" Oliver looks down at Felicity to see her gaze fixed across the room. He follows it to see Laurel chatting with a group of people.

"Oliver, I know she's your friend, but do you think we can avoid Laurel tonight? I'm really not in the mood for another confrontation."

"Of course." He replies. He's not that keen to see Laurel himself given the way she acted at the hospital. The last thing they need is a scene with Laurel drawing attention to them.

"Guys, the facial recognition isn't picking up any of our potential suspects." Digg's voice announces in their ears. Felicity can hear him typing as he talks and she winces at the sound. Digg is something of a keyboard killer with the ferocity of his typing.

"Felicity, can you get near some of the wait staff with your camera? There aren't many security cameras near the kitchens, so I'm only picking up the odd staffer here and there."

"Sure." She allows Oliver to lead her over to the buffet and she makes sure her hair isn't covering the sapphire dress clasp that actually happens to be a small camera feeding Digg live footage in the lair.

They're part way along the buffet when the large screens at one end of the room flicker, the montage of photos of young children receiving parcels of books and school supplies replaced with a video feed.

"Welcome," it's the same digitally altered voice and man hidden by shadows. "No doubt many of you believe you're here to help the disadvantaged of the Glades, but you're actually here to indirectly line the pockets of Starling's wealthiest."

"Digg, can you intercept the signal?" Oliver says urgently. They both hear a flurry of typing as Digg works frantically.

"It's close," he replies. "I'm trying to narrow it down further but I think you both need to get out."

The appearance of the video has resulted in a mix of reactions. Pockets of the room are confused, while some have clearly recognised the man from the news broadcasts and are starting to panic.

Oliver grasps Felicity's hand and they start moving quickly towards an exit. She picks up the skirts of her gown so she can move faster, but their progress starts to be hampered by a crush of people with similar ideas.

"Guys, get out now. The signal's coming from within fifty metres of you."

"We're trying, there are too many people." Oliver grunts as he elbows his way through, pulling Felicity in tight against him.

Digg starts to respond but his words are drowned out by the sound of an explosion. Felicity feels a wave of heat wash over them before all she knows is darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here we go! I couldn't keep you waiting too long after a cliffhanger! My ongoing thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites, keep them coming! Hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

**Chapter 7**

Felicity slowly opens her eyes. Her hearing is muffled and there's a distant ringing in her ears. She feels something warm on her face and she reaches a shaking hand up to touch her forehead and draws it back to find bright red blood on her fingertips.

Her head is fuzzy and she doesn't remember where she is, but her thoughts immediately turn to Oliver.

"Oliver!" she's shouting as she pushes herself to a sitting position, but she can barely hear her own voice. The room is full of smoke and there are people everywhere. She turns around and sees him.

He's laying behind her, blood seeping from a wound in his abdomen. Felicity shrieks and scrabbles towards him, her arms barely holding her weight.

"Oliver, please, Oliver!" his eyes are closed and she runs her hands gently over his chest, her breath catching once she discerns a heartbeat. She pulls at the lining of her skirt, trying desperately to rip off enough fabric to press onto Oliver's wound. Her fingers fumble, but finally she succeeds, sheer desperation giving her strength.

She presses the fabric against him with one hand, the other scrabbling to find her clutch. She locates it and pulls out her phone, dialling Digg. The sounds around her are getting louder as her hearing returns, the moans of the injured, the cries of the scared and the shouts of the first responders.

"Digg! I need you, it's Oliver. Please come find us." Felicity cries into the phone. She can barely hear Digg over the noise around her, but he's shouting back at her and she realises he must already be on the way.

Felicity turns her attention to the people nearby, looking desperately for someone to help her. More emergency workers are arriving and she realises she must have been knocked out for longer than a few minutes.

"Help, please!" she shouts, trying to get someone, anyone to help Oliver. She knows he's still breathing and the wound certainly isn't as bad as ones she's seen him with, but he always had Digg there to help patch him up.

After what feels like a lifetime, a paramedic hurries over and drops to his knees beside Oliver. "You okay?" he asks Felicity brusquely as he eases back the bloodied fabric that was once part of her gown to assess Oliver.

She nods. "I'm fine, just worry about him." She sits back on her heels, trying to concentrate on Oliver's face and not the blood staining his shirt or her hands.

"Come on, Oliver," she whispers, watching as the paramedic cuts away Oliver's dress shirt to press fresh gauze to his wound and firmly wrapping it in place. He motions to a colleague with a stretcher and he then turns to Felicity.

"This is Oliver Queen, right?" she nods again. "We're going to get him out of here and straight to Starling General. You're coming with us to get that head wound sorted, okay? What's your name?"

"Felicity Smoak. I'm Oliver's next of kin for medical emergencies." It's a role he insisted on her having months ago to keep Thea from getting involved if her were ever injured on Arrow duty and Felicity's suddenly very glad of it. It means she won't be kept in the dark about his condition.

Somehow, she finds herself on her feet, a thin blanket around her shoulders as she watches the paramedics carefully move Oliver onto the stretcher.

"Felicity! Felicity!" she turns at the sound of her name and sees Digg trying to push past police to get to her.

"Please, let him through," she cries. "Please." The cops relent and Digg races over, his arms enfolding her. He squeezes gently, looking down at Oliver and the paramedic beside him.

"Abdominal injury," the first paramedic informs him. "He'll probably need surgery, but he'll be okay. You can follow us to Starling General. Miss Smoak needs to come with us to get that head wound looked at."

"Come on, Felicity, I'll come out with you." She lets Digg lead her out, following the paramedics carrying Oliver. She stumbles once or twice, but Digg's steady grip keeps her on her feet. He helps her climb into the ambulance and promises to be right behind them.

* * *

The next few hours pass in a blur. Her head wound is cleaned and sutured and she sits with Digg waiting to be able to see Oliver, who'd been immediately taken to surgery. She barely registers that her hand is being tightly held by one of Digg's, or the nurse that comes over occasionally to make sure she's okay, giving her cups of tea she barely touches before they go cold. She just keeps focusing on the double doors that Oliver disappeared through, waiting for someone to come out and tell her he was all right.

"Miss Smoak?" she jumps to her feet, stumbling, Digg's hand the only thing keeping her upright.

"Yes, that's me. Is he okay? Can I see him?" she demands anxiously.

"Mr Queen is being moved to a room now and you'll be able to see him very soon. He had some minor internal bleeding and a rather severe concussion, not to mention some shrapnel wounds. But he's going to be just fine." The doctor says, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Felicity's arm.

It's like the weight of the world has slid off her shoulders and she lets out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. The doctor is still talking, but Felicity is no longer listening. She leans heavily against Digg, waiting impatiently to be able to see Oliver.

Finally, Digg leads her along the corridor and they find Oliver in a private suite. Felicity dashes to his side, but pulls up short, suddenly afraid to touch him. He's pale under his usual light tan, his head wrapped in gauze and the skin on his arms that's visible peppered with small cuts and bruises. His eyes are shut, his surprisingly long lashes fanning on to the tops of his cheeks.

Gingerly, Felicity reaches out and trails her fingertips down his face. She can feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and her breath hitches in her throat. He looks so vulnerable laying in this hospital bed.

"Felicity?" Digg murmurs behind her.

"I'm staying here, John." She says firmly.

"I assumed that. I thought I'd go to your place and get you both some things? You're going to want to change out of that dress."

She tears her eyes away from Oliver long enough to shoot Digg a watery smile. "Thanks, that would be great. I did the laundry yesterday, it should still be folded up in the basket near my dryer. Just grab some stuff out of there."

Digg leans in to press a quick kiss to the top of her head and then departs.

* * *

It takes all of Digg's powers of persuasion to convince Felicity to leave Oliver's side for two minutes so she can get changed. In the end, he points out that Oliver seeing her battered and wearing a torn and blood soaked gown when he wakes up isn't going to go down well and she acquiesces.

She slips into the ensuite attached to Oliver's suite and quickly strips off the remains of her sapphire gown, bundling it up and stuffing it into the garbage bin under the sink. She runs a wash cloth under water as hot as she can stand and cleans herself down, washing away the dust and blood. Within a few minutes she's brushed her hair back into a loose ponytail and slipped into a pair of leggings and a tshirt. She pulls one of Oliver's training hoodies on, breathing in deeply so she can catch the hint of his cologne and a scent that's all his own, zipping it up as she emerges from the bathroom to find Laurel sitting by Oliver's bedside.

It's the last thing she needs, but she approaches cautiously, noting the significant glances from Digg, who doesn't look pleased at their visitor. He shrugs slightly, indicating his inability to do anything about her presence.

"Laurel." The brunette glances up and a raft of emotions runs across her face. Felicity spots a cast on Laurel's left arm and a few scratches that mar the perfection of her face. She's still wearing her champagne coloured gown, which is sporting some tears and a small splattering of blood along the hem.

"Felicity, I'm…I'm sorry to barge in, but I just needed to know he was okay." Laurel sounds hesitant, her words loaded with anguish. Maybe even a bit of guilt, Felicity thinks, her tense stance relaxing somewhat.

"It's okay. I know how important he is to you." She murmurs back. She won't pick a fight, not tonight. "Are you okay?" she asks, motioning to Laurel's cast.

Laurel glances down at it briefly. "A fracture, but nothing serious. Mr Diggle said Oliver was going to be okay?"

"Yeah. They've loaded him up with a lot of painkillers though, so it'll be a few hours before he wakes up." Felicity moves to the opposite side of Oliver's bed and takes a seat.

"Do you think you could let me know when he's awake?" Laurel asks softly, looking over at Felicity.

Felicity takes a breath. Then another. "Why don't you wait with us until he wakes up?" she suggests.

Relief and surprise flit across Laurel's face. "Thanks, I'd like that."

They sit silently for a few moments, alternating between searching Oliver's face for any sight of him waking up and watching the steady pulse of his heart rate on the monitor beside him.

"I'm sorry."

It's said so quietly that Felicity isn't sure she's heard correctly, but the look of contrition on Laurel's face says everything.

"I know."

* * *

Felicity wakes from an uneasy sleep, her muscles protesting with every movement from where she's been leaning onto the side of Oliver's bed, her head resting on folded arms. There's the lightest of touches along her arm and she lifts her head to find Oliver's bright blue eyes regarding her from half closed lids, his fingers shifting against her arm that's right beside his hand.

"Oliver!" she gasps, practically falling out of her seat as she tries to stand up. There's movement around the room as Digg and Laurel jump to their feet at her exclamation.

"Hey," he murmurs with a rough voice. Laurel's at his other side with a glass of water and she raises the straw to his lips so he can sip, his eyes remaining firmly on Felicity the entire time.

Felicity leans in close, lightly pressing her face against his shoulder. "I was so worried." She whispers.

"Just a scratch." He replies, trying to move his hand up to her face.

"Don't you move." Felicity warns, stilling his hand. "You need to rest and get better so we can take this bastard down."

"I second that." Digg chimes in. He's standing beside Laurel, his arms folded over his chest, looking down at Oliver with a concerned but relieved smile.

Oliver's eyes flick over and his lips curve up in a slight smile. "Digg. Laurel. Glad you're here."

"We're just glad you're okay, Ollie." Laurel replies, her eyes shining with tears of relief.

His eyes switch back to Felicity and he takes in the stitches near her hairline and the small cuts and bruises she's sporting. "You okay?" he asks gruffly.

She nods, not trusting her own voice. She grasps at his hand, bringing up to her lips, then holds it against her chest.

A nurse bustles in, shooing Laurel and Digg to one side in a kind but firm gesture. "Good to see you awake, Mr Queen." She smiles as she begins taking his vitals.

"We should leave you guys to get some rest," Digg speaks up. "I'll drop you home, Laurel. Felicity, let me know if you need anything, okay?"

She nods, shooting him a grateful look and even a small smile in Laurel's direction. Laurel doesn't look like she wants to leave, but she allows Digg to lead her out after Felicity promises to update her with Oliver's progress.

"I'm guessing you're staying here?" the nurse asks Felicity.

"Yes. I'll sleep in the chair." She replies.

"No need for that, dear. We can get Mr Queen shifted over slightly when we change his dressing and there's plenty of room on the bed for a slip of a thing like you."

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to have to move him, I'll be fine." She protests, only to be stilled by Oliver's hand.

"Please," he murmurs, his thumb ghosting over her wrist.

"Okay." She whispers in response, leaning over to press a kiss against his jaw. The nurse calls in a colleague and they efficiently redress Oliver's wound, shifting him slightly so there's room for Felicity on his uninjured side.

The nurse insists on checking Felicity's wounds before leaving, slipping her some mild painkillers and then helping her to clamber up beside Oliver.

"There you go, dear. I think you'll both get a better night's rest like this. I'm on duty tonight and I'll check on you every once in a while, okay?" she places the call buzzer within their reach and dims the lights.

Felicity snuggles into Oliver's side, her head resting over his Bratva tattoo and the steady beat of his heart soothing her.

"Are you sure this is okay?" she whispers, glancing up at his face. His eyes flutter open and he smiles.

"It's more than okay." He replies, moving his head so that his cheek is pressed against the top of her head. He breathes in the scent of her, feeling his muscles relax as sleep beckons.

* * *

Two days later, Oliver's sitting up in bed, a frustrated expression on his face as the doctor tells him he's not yet ready to go home.

"Just one more night, Mr Queen." The doctor holds up her hands, warding off any complaints. "You've made excellent progress so far, far better that expected, but I'm going to have to insist on this."

His eyes go to Felicity, who's curled up in the chair beside him. "Don't look at me," she says. "I'd keep you here another week if I could."

"Ugh." He groans. "I hate hospitals. I feel so useless here."

"Be thankful you're in such good shape, Mr Queen. I've seen people with injuries like yours laid up in hospital for a couple of weeks." The doctor smiles. "Now just try to get some rest, okay? You're in good hands here."

He waits until the doctor leaves before turning back to Felicity. "Any new leads?" Digg had brought in her tablet the day after the bombing and Felicity has been trawling through footage from her dress clasp camera ever since, running every face through her facial recognition software.

"Not from the footage," she replies. "But I have been able to rule out a couple of our suspects based on credit card activity and security footage placing them outside of Starling."

"Good." Oliver watches as she flicks through images, the low light from the tablet illuminating her face and emphasising the shadows under her eyes.

"I think you should head home for a while." Felicity's head shoots up at his words. "Just to get some rest." He finishes quickly.

"I'm fine, Oliver. I'm not going anywhere."

"Felicity, you've barely slept, what with the nurses coming in to check on me every hour." He points out. He knows his own sleep has been restless with his usual nightmares, and although his weakened state has limited their severity, he knows he's likely to have woken her up with his shaking and movement.

"I don't want to leave you." Felicity drops her tablet on her lap and crosses her arms stubbornly.

"No one can get to me in here, there are guards all over this wing."

She acknowledges that with a grunt. There's a string of high profile victims in this wing of the hospital and along with a decent number of policemen, there's also a heap of personal security patrolling.

However, Oliver can tell Felicity isn't going anywhere without a fight, so he decides to back down. The selfish side of him doesn't really want her out of his sight anyway. "At least try to sleep on the couch for a few hours. Please?"

She huffs and rolls her eyes in an exaggerated way that has him smiling. But with a very put upon manner, she hands her tablet to him so he can scroll through her work and goes over to the small couch where the nurses have left a few pillows and a warm blanket. Despite her protests, she's asleep within minutes, the tension and worry in her face draining away as she relaxes into a deep slumber.

Oliver watches her for a while, taking in every detail of her. He knows that if their positions were reversed he wouldn't be taking it nearly as well as she has.

"Hey, man. How are you feeling?" Digg is leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Getting there," Oliver replies, keeping his voice low as he motions to the couch so Digg can see Felicity sleeping. "One more night."

"That gives us some more time to find this guy, then." Digg points out. "Waller's agreed to send to Squad after him once we've got a solid lead."

Oliver opens his mouth to protest, but Digg holds up a hand. "Oliver, we need to take him down before he takes out any more targets. I know it's personal for you, but you know you're not going to be combat ready any time soon."

He wants to argue, but Digg's right. Besides, he's pretty certain Felicity would have something to say if he went out as the Arrow before she'd given him her ok.

"Fine." He says tightly. "But I want in on the command room if and when the takedown happens."

Digg looks surprised, no doubt expecting an argument. "Of course."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Here we go, the last chapter. I have toyed with the idea of a short epilogue, but I've started working on a new mutli-chapter Arrow fic and that will take precedence for now, so assume that this is the end of this particular story. Keep an eye out for the first chapter of the new story soon.**

**Thanks again to everyone that's taken the time to review, and to everyone that's followed or favourited this story. I hope you enjoy this! **

**Lastly, there's an incredible Oliver/Felicity video on youtube that was tweeted by the Arrow Writers this past week. Not sure I can post the link, but it's called Oliver & Felicity Fix You by KristinaOrtutova**

**Chapter 8**

Oliver lightly parries the strike Digg aims at his side. The two men circle each other on the training mats, bo staffs in hand. It's one of Oliver's first full contact training sessions since the bombing two weeks earlier and Digg's taking it easy on him, much to Oliver's annoyance.

"Come on, John. You can go harder than that." Oliver says, reaching out with a viciously aimed blow. Digg ducks it easily and stands his guard.

"If you think I'm going to attack you at our usual level with your overprotective girlfriend twenty feet away, you're crazier than I thought." Digg hisses.

Oliver grins and attacks again. This time Digg is forced to defend himself with a little more vigour.

"Hey!" Digg immediately takes a step back at Felicity's interjection.

"I swear, I was keeping it light, Felicity." He begins, before she holds a hand up.

"It's not that." She looks over at Oliver. "I've found him."

Both men hurry to her side. On the screen is the results of one of the dozens of facial recognition scans she's run over the previous two weeks. It's showing a match for Jeffrey Coopersmith, one of the ex-army explosives experts they'd signalled out as a potential suspect in the wake of the bombings.

"Why haven't your scans picked this up before?" Oliver asks.

"I got access to new footage. There's a jeweller across the road from where the benefit was held. Their security system went offline after the bombing and they've been working at getting it up the past two weeks. The second their system went online I was able to hack in and gain access to the footage from the night of the bombing. He was waiting right outside, keeping out of sight of the City's cameras and the cameras at the function centre, but right in the view of the jewellers." Felicity explains. She runs the original footage so that Oliver and Digg can see for themselves. Coopersmith has a tablet that he's swiping minutes before the bombing. Just before it goes off, he runs off, the explosion ending the video feed.

"Where is he now?" Oliver asks gruffly. Coopersmith has avoided detection long enough. There hasn't been another bombing, but it could only be a matter of time before he targets the surviving organisers behind A Helping Hand to Education.

"He's completely off grid. No activity on his credit cards, passport, anything. Now that we know it's him, I have my searches running facial recognition on every camera in the city I can get my hands on. There's nothing else we can do now."

"I should let Lyla know." Digg says. "She'll need to update Waller on all this. The Squad is still on standby if we need them."

"Do it." Oliver replies and Digg walks off to make the call. He rests one hand over Felicity's shoulder, squeezing. "Good work, Felicity."

"I'm only sorry it's taken this long." She replies.

"Hey, you did everything you could to find this guy, Felicity." Oliver says, running his hand up and down her arm. "There's no way we could have found him any earlier."

She sighs, leaning into his touch. "I know, I know."

His response is cut off by an alert popping up on Felicity's screen. She expands it to find a story emblazoned with the headline _FORMER BILLIONAIRE AND MYSTERY BLONDE?_ There's a photo of them underneath, exiting Felicity's apartment that morning, Oliver's arm slung around her shoulders and her hand resting on his chest as she gazes up at him. His face is alight with laughter at something she's said.

"Crap." Felicity starts typing furiously. "This was originally posted two hours ago, but my alerts didn't pick it up because they originally ran it with your name spelt incorrectly. I'll delete it from the paper's servers and look for any repostings."

Oliver peers closer. "We could be walking out of almost any apartment building in Starling, there's nothing in that shot that could identify where we are."

"So, yay for invasive telescopic zoom lenses?" Felicity asks sceptically. "I can't believe someone finally tracked you down. I've been laying some pretty awesome false trails. I even manipulated some photos from a high end nightclub in Vegas and started a rumour that you'd been seen there taking jelly shots off a stripper's stomach."

"Is there any reason all of these false trails involve me with strippers?" Oliver asks. "I mean, I could be playing golf with some business associates in Florida or something."

Felicity shoots him a glance over her shoulder that clearly says _Oliver, please._ He grins.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Felicity finally calls time on their training session. She can see the almost imperceptible droop in his body as he runs through yet another sparring session with Digg.

He objects, but when she threatens him with her loud voice he agrees to call it a night.

"Another week and you'll be back at the top of your game." Digg suggests. "You've got to give it some time."

"It's time we don't have, Digg. Coopersmith is still out there." Oliver points out.

"I know, man. But we have back up from ARGUS. It's the best we can do."

Felicity slides an arm around his back and settles in to his side. "Come on, let's go home. I promise I'll let you train longer tomorrow."

* * *

"I was thinking pizza for dinner tonight?" Felicity asks as she searches her key ring for her door key.

"Hmm?" Oliver glances down at her. He's thinking back to his workout with Digg, mentally cataloguing his weaknesses and what areas he needs to push tomorrow.

"Pizza. Dinner." Felicity repeats, finally locating the correct key and opening the lock. She reaches in for the light switch, but the lights stay off.

"Huh, must have blown." She mutters, starting to step inside until Oliver pulls her back.

"Let me go first, okay?" he says softly, his muscles tensing slightly. It's probably nothing, but something feels off. He pads in slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He's just about to turn around to let Felicity in when something strikes him hard around the head and he goes down.

* * *

He comes to slowly, his head pounding and the feel of something warm that he assumes is blood trailing down his face. After a moment of disorientation, it comes back to him – the lights off at Felicity's apartment and the blow to the head. His eyes snap open and he tenses, finding his hands and feet bound with zip ties and he sees Felicity across the room, tied to her desk chair, her eyes wide and terrified.

"Felicity," he growls, gaining the attention of not just his girlfriend, but the large man in her apartment.

"Ah, Mr Queen. I thought you'd never rejoin us." Coopersmith says, squatting down on the floor near Oliver, gun in hand. "I really was hoping you'd be conscious for this, otherwise it's less fun for me."

Oliver jerks slightly at his bonds. The zip ties are tight, but he's confident he can get through them. He just needs Felicity to distract Coopersmith long enough to try. He gives her what he hopes is a significant look then turns to Coopersmith.

"Your quarrel is obviously with me. Let her go." He grunts.

"I don't think so. She's as guilty as you in my book. Here she is sheltering you when hundreds are homeless after what your mother did. And hundreds more because of people like you giving guns to gangs in the Glades. She's your secretary –"

"Executive assistant." Felicity snaps and Coopersmith turns towards her, his attention temporarily off Oliver. "If you're going to kill me for my supposed crimes, at least have the decency to get my job description right. How did you even find where I lived?"

"There was a photo of you two leaving here. There wasn't much detail in the published photo, but the original image was considerably larger and had enough identifying detail that made it easy for me to track you down." Coopersmith replies. "Newspapers are so obliging."

Felicity scowls. "I hardly see how Oliver is responsible for what's happening in the Glades. Or me, for that matter! He gave hundreds of thousands of dollars to the people of the Glades to help them. He's not his mother, he had nothing to do with the undertaking."

"He's his mother's son. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Coopersmith's voice is cold as he advances on Felicity. She's beyond terrified at the crazed look in his eyes. She risks a quick glance at Oliver to see he still needs time.

"That's rubbish. If that was true I'd be a cocktail waitress in Vegas like my mother, or a useless drunk holding up a bar somewhere like my father." She spits. "We all have choices and Oliver has chosen to be a good man."

"I don't really care." Coopersmith says. "He's going to die, just like the others. And you're going to die, too." His hand goes towards his pocket, but before it can there's a snapping noise as Oliver jerks his hands and legs free and he's on Coopersmith in an instant. The element of surprise is his this time and he aims a vicious blow at Coopersmith's head that has him on his knees. Oliver snags one of Felicity's heavy coffee table books from the nearby table and swings it, clipping Coopersmith's temple and knocking him out.

Oliver quickly frees Felicity and she runs to the coat rack near the front door, grabbing a couple of silken scarves that Oliver uses to tie Coopersmith up with.

"Oliver, he must have something on him, a bomb or a detonator." Felicity says uncertainly. "There's no way he'd change his MO for this and just shoot us."

Oliver carefully searches the unconscious man's pockets and finds a remote device that's blinking ominously. He swears, scrambling to his feet.

"He must have planted something in the apartment," his eyes flick everywhere and Felicity holds up her hand.

"Be quiet a second, I thought I heard something." In the quiet, they both quickly hear a soft ticking and follow the sound to the kitchen. Under the bench they find a bomb, the timer showing just under five minutes.

"It must have been triggered when he fell. We need to get out of here." Oliver grabs her arm, trying to drag her out.

"Oliver! We can't just go. Most of my neighbours are elderly. Even if we managed to raise the alarm, they'd never get out in time. We have to disarm this." Felicity says firmly, but her whole body is shaking.

He swears again. "Fine, but I'll do the cutting. Coopersmith was army trained, surely he'd stick with the techniques he'd know?"

Felicity hesitantly approaches the bomb, phone in hand. She snaps some photos and starts typing on her phone. "I'm sending these to Digg and to ARGUS. Hopefully someone can talk us through it."

Within seconds her phone is ringing. "Digg, please tell me you can help." She pleads, putting the phone on speaker so Oliver can hear.

"What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into?" Digg demands.

"Coopersmith was waiting for us at home. Oliver's knocked him out but there's a bomb in my kitchen counting down. We need to disarm it." Felicity quickly explains. "He was army, do you recognise the technique he's used?"

"Yeah, it's one of the older methods. It's not as stable as the techniques used now, so you're going to have to be careful."

"Understatement of the century, Digg." Oliver huffs. "What do I do first? Three minutes forty remaining."

"Pry the casing off the timer. Slowly. There should be three wires, two of them twisted together."

Oliver follows the instructions, carefully running a knife he's swiped from the block on Felicity's bench under the casing, levering it slightly until it loosens. He holds the knife between his teeth and he gently pulls the casing off, exposing the three wires that Digg had described.

"Now what?" he asks through gritted teeth. He puts the casing down and takes the knife once more. "Do I cut the lone wire?"

"NO." Digg practically shouts. "No wires cut yet. The wires should lead from the timing mechanism back to a circuit."

"Yeah, got it."

"Okay, has the circuit got a switch at the base?"

"Yes. Two minutes fifty."

"That is controlling the current to the detonator. Switch it back the other direction." Digg instructs. Felicity holds her breath as Oliver moves his fingers to the switch. The air is thick with tension as he slowly pushes it back.

"Okay, done." Felicity and Digg both take a ragged breath.

"Right. Now that's done, cut the lone wire connecting the circuit to the timer. Just one more step after this."

Oliver snags the wire with the knife and slices upwards. "The timer is still counting down."

"Yeah. You need to lift the circuit up. There will be another wire connecting to the charge. Cut that."

He does and the timer stops.

"It's stopped." Oliver breathes. His heart is racing so fast it feels like it's going to leap out of his chest.

"Okay. Now you need to back away. It's not going to go off, but it's still unstable. I'm at the lair, I've sent a message to SCPD, the bomb squad should be there in minutes." Digg takes another breath.

"Thanks, Digg," Felicity's voice is as unsteady as her feet. She wobbles and then gives in, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor of the kitchen. Oliver scoots back to join her as they hear the sound of approaching sirens.

* * *

For the next few hours, the building is swarming with police. The bomb squad had quickly removed the device, taking it away for a controlled explosion. Felicity sits on her couch, her grandmother's rug wrapped tightly around her and Oliver beside her as they run through the night's events for the police.

"We got home from a friend's place and he attacked Oliver as we got in." Felicity says. "He was mad, going on about how Oliver was responsible for the state of the Glades."

He reaches over to squeeze her hands. The policeman interviewing them turns to Oliver. "How did you manage to subdue your attacker? You said earlier you were both bound?"

"We were, but he'd just used those thin plastic zip ties. Mine weren't that tight and I was able to snag it on the edge of the table behind me to break it." Oliver replies. "He was distracted, telling Felicity why she was complicit and I used that distraction to hit him."

"With the coffee table book." The policeman says, gesturing to the heavy book – a large volume on astronomy – that's being bagged for evidence.

"That's right."

"And the bomb?"

"He was ranting before Oliver knocked him out, said he was army. The timer got set off when he fell and I knew we had to at least try to disarm it. My neighbours would never have got out." Felicity explains.

"My bodyguard, Mr Diggle," Oliver gestures to where Digg is across the room talking to a member of the bomb squad. "He's ex-special forces. Felicity sent pictures of the device and Mr Diggle recognised the technique and was able to talk us through disarming it, all while sending a message to you to come here."

"Seems pretty cut and dry to me," the policeman says, making a few final notes before snapping shut his notebook. "What you did was brave. Stupid, but brave."

Felicity bristles. "We had no choice. The time had five minutes on it. We had to assume it was at least as powerful as the last few bombs. It would have killed dozens of people who had no chance of escape."

"I realise that, Miss Smoak." The policeman responds.

"One more thing, Officer." Oliver says. "I'd appreciate it if you kept mine and Miss Smoak's names out of any official statements. I doubt this is the only man with a grudge against my family and I'd rather our involvement here tonight wasn't made public." The officer nods, then leaves.

It's the early hours of the morning before the apartment is emptied of everyone except Felicity, Oliver and Digg.

"You sure you guys want to stay here?" Digg asks.

"We'll be fine." Felicity says. "There are still police posted downstairs to keep the press away. No one's getting in here."

Digg nods, leaving within a few minutes.

"Come on, bed." Oliver says, pulling an exhausted Felicity to her feet.

"I don't know if I can even make it that far." She replies, only to have Oliver duck slightly and pick up her up, flinging her over his shoulder. He strides towards the bedroom, ignoring her squeals and the fists tapping against his back. He deposits her on the bed and then retrieves some pajamas from her bureau.

"Oliver! I didn't mean that I needed carrying!" she protests, snagging the pajamas out of the air as he tosses them to her.

"It seemed the fastest way to get you here." He shrugs, ducking out into the hall to head to the bathroom.

By the time he returns she's changed and is sitting cross legged on the bed, plaiting her hair. He strips off his clothes, mindful of her eyes watching him, then slides under the covers, leaning up against the headboard.

She quietly finishes plaiting her hair and then shimmies up high enough so she can find the edge of the covers to join him in bed. He opens his arms and she wriggles against his side, resting her head over his Bratva tattoo, one hand resting lightly over his abdomen.

"Do you think it's always going to be like this?" she asks, letting her fingertips wander over his abs.

"Like what?"

"Insane people coming after you or after the Arrow."

"Sometimes. But not always. I hope that once we get back QC and Oliver Queen starts showing that he gives a damn about this city it will change people's perceptions." He replies.

Felicity lets out a little sigh. "We've got so much work to do, don't we? I know Walter is confident that you can get QC back, but it's going to take some time."

"Yeah. At least it gives the Arrow time to work on some of the problems in the Glades. Now we've got the police a little more on our side it should be easier."

She glances up at him. "I'm never going to get used to hearing you talk about yourself in third person, you know. Especially when you refer to two separate versions of yourself."

He laughs. "It's easier to separate those two identities of what the public sees and what the criminals see."

"Can't you just be _you_?" she asks.

"I can be with you." He says swiftly. "It's getting easier every day to be just Oliver Queen. I'm still finding out the man I want to be when I'm not in the hood, or when I don't have cameras in my face."

"Well good." She says with some satisfaction, nestling her head back down on his chest. "As long as you can be yourself here with me, or with Digg, I suppose I can put up with the occasional lapse into third person."

"Oh really?" he asks, capturing her hand. "Because Oliver Queen the CEO had some rather interesting thoughts regarding his Executive Assistant. All those short skirts and long hours at the office together really got his mind thinking up some interesting possibilities."

She raises her head, eyes sparkling and he leans down to capture her lips in a kiss. She hums in approval, allowing him to drag her up his body. He moves to her neck, nipping lightly at the skin before laving it with his tongue.

She shivers in anticipation. "I think Mr Queen's Executive Assistant is ready to take down those thoughts."

**A/N 2: Just thought I should point out that the bomber here is based on an actual Green Arrow villain, Detonator. So, in addition to all the characters you do recognise, he's clearly not mine. Thanks again!**


End file.
